


Lunar Cipher

by Hanajimasama



Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Adventure, F/M, Revenge, Spooky, Vampires, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2019-08-02 04:13:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 24,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16297955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hanajimasama/pseuds/Hanajimasama
Summary: The little town of Rose Creek sits nestled in a dense forest, an old ominous looms in the distance. Rumours about dangerous creatures lurking in the woods at night keep the townsfolk on edge. Is it the inhabitants of the old Manor House they should fear or something much worse?A lone hunter bent on revenge...Those who wish to live peacefully...A growing force in the darkness..What will the future hold?





	1. Manoir Sombre

**Author's Note:**

> Well it's back. I hope it'll be better than last time.  
> Thank you to Fontainebleau and MzHxde for their help and support.

 

**1885 - Europe..**

 

Deep within the forest that surrounded the small quaint town of Rose Creek, just visible above the treetops was the old Manor House.  It had been there for longer than any townsfolk could recall but it was strangely well kept for such an old building – there was always someone living in it. It currently belonged to Goodnight Robicheaux, a charming and well dressed but somewhat private man. He had opened the house to some wayward souls, apparently to act as a boarding house for them; it was unclear how many actually lived in the Robicheaux house but the towns folks kept themselves busy with rumours of what really lurked up here, though few dared go venturing in the woods, especially after dark. 

 

Though that didn’t stop people going up to work up at the big home. Mr Robicheaux always seemed on the lookout for hired help, since the people that were brave enough to accept the jobs didn’t stick around too long. They claimed the house was haunted, or that they felt they were being watched at night, not to mention the constant howls of wolves. 

 

Cassandra Elwood was one of the brave souls who took a job up at the mansion. Setting a well looked after rifle against the trunk of a tree as she shouldered her heavy satchel again. Her body shuddered as she tried to catch her breath: it was no light trek up through the woods and even though the trees shaded her from the sun the forest was horribly warm. She had hitched up her long dark blue skirt and tucked it under a thick leather belt so it didn’t get snagged on any sharp twigs or bushes, which also let the air get to her legs in a failed attempt to keep her cool.  Turning up to such a fancy place in trousers was hardly befitting for a lady, even if she had to hike up the forest to get there. 

 

In truth she knew nothing about housekeeping but this was too good to pass up. The pay seemed to be too good to be true but from the rumours flying about the town the manor house held many strange things. Which was exactly what she needed. She was hunting something and where there were strange occurances the sooner she might find what she was after. Though her hunting aside, her funds had severely depleted after taking a job she thought would yield a greater monetary outcome but had the complete opposite effect. Bullets were expensive especially the type she needed and with food, inns and other expensive her funds weren’t getting a chance to replenish. This job offered her a chance to save her funds, wait in an ideal place for her target and all she had to do was clean? 

 

“Bunch of superstitious nitwits,” Cassandra grumbled, pushing her long blonde hair back out of her face. “Wouldn’t even sell me a goddamn horse!” She cursed the townsfolk as she carried on her way up the forest path, if you could call it that.

  
  
  
  


Once upon time there had been a stone path leading up towards the Manor House but now it was barely visible through the undergrowth. “Oh, thank God.” Cass breathed a sigh of relief as the forest came to an end, opening up a good few yards before the elaborate wrought iron fence that surrounded the house. Cass was in awe of the building and the sheer size of land it actually possessed. 

“This has got to be the size of the town itself.” 

 

Reaching the fence’s gateway she found it ajar; the creak of the unoiled hinges echoed through the mostly quiet clearing. Shutting the gate behind her, she admired the gardens as she ambled down the strangely well kept stone cobble path. 

The house itself seemed so much larger when you were stood on the flat stone steps gazing up at the building, more like a castle than a house. Cass untucked her skirt from the belt and smoothed out the creases before trying to tidy up her messy hair. 

“This will have to do.”

 

She took a deep breath, grasped the smooth golden ring door knocker and rapped it loudly. Taking a step back from the towering wooden doors she dusted herself down one last time and practised her most cheery smile.

“This job is going to kill me, I swear.” she mumbled.

 

Her whole body tensed as the door clicked opened and creaked the same way the gate had. The townsfolk were right about one thing: this place was creepy. Though the person that greeted her was perfectly normal: a middle aged man. maybe just hitting forty or so. His neatly slicked-back hair was slightly greying but it didn’t diminish his apparent natural charm. The moustache and beard that circled his lip and lined his chin were delicately trimmed and groomed, but his eyes were what Cassandra noticed best, blue like a crisp summer sky. He was also very well dressed, as expected from someone that owned a house as grand as this one.

 

“M-mister Robicheaux? Cassandra Elwood. I responded to your notice about a maid..” He looked her up and down before smiling brightly at her and held out his hand which she took, expecting to shake it, but he brought it to his lips in a delicate kiss. 

 

“Even more lovely than I pictured. Please come inside.” He moved to allow Cassandra to enter and chuckled when he heard her audible admiration for his home. 

“Been in my family for generations,” he explained, following her gaze up towards the ceiling and then to the windows.

 

_ They always have the same first impression. _

 

“It’s huge.” Cassandra shouldered her bag as she milled around the lobby in wonder “This place is beautiful.” 

 

“Well I’m glad you think so, petite.” Goodnight gazed at the rifle by her side “That’s quite the rifle.” Cassandra tensed of course he would pick up on that. 

 

“For protection. The roads have been rather dangerous of late and my pa said I should always be prepared just in case. He taught me how to shoot.” She wasn’t lying, the roads were dangerous just not of bandits or highwaymen. Goodnight nodded. 

 

“surely a pistol would have sufficed?” Cassandra gripped the gun in both hands, a pistol would be easier to carry and she did have one in her bag but…

 

“My father insisted on a rifle. He preferred sharp shooting and he said that rifles generally look more imposing than a small pistol.”

 

“would you mind?” Goodnight asked holding his hand out to take the gun from her. Cassandra was reluctant to hand it over, it was her prized possession but she held it out for him to take. Goodnight inspected it and held it up to aim at some imaginary target “a fine gun. It has been sometimes I fired a gun let alone held one.” Goodnight smiled at her and handed the weapon back to her “Don’t worry petite, you’ll be plenty safe up here. Now then why don’t we discuss the details of the job.” 

 

“Yes of course, sir.” She followed him down a corridor that led to a large parlour room. She sat carefully on the edge of the exquisite looking sofa and admired the room while Goodnight fetched a tray of coffee through setting it down on the low mahogany table handing her a cup full of dark bitter coffee before sitting opposite her. 

 

“Now then let's see. I think I covered most things on the advertisement…”

 

Cassandra pulled the carefully folded parchment out of her skirt pocket “It doesn’t mention anything about cooking? is that right?” she handed the paper to Goodnight who read it carefully.

 

“That’s right…” he glanced up to see the look of relief on her face.

 

“oh thank god…” Cassandra clamped a hand over her mouth “I’m sorry.. my cooking skills aren’t...well they’re pretty awful to be fair. I can cook for myself but it’s usually over a campfire..”

 

Goodnight chuckled at her honesty “Don’t worry about sorting meals out. Our schedules vary a lot and we don’t eat meals at the same time.” 

 

“Can I just question the pay...is that right? because that seems like a lot when you’re offering room and board too.”

 

“That is the correct amount, it is weekly pay is that alright? I really need the help. This is a big place and I just don’t get the time to clean it and the boys that live here just add to the mess when they try to help.” Goodnight sighed raising his cup to his lips. He explained the rest of the details of the job but it was quite simply clean.

 

“If you’re happy with me Mr Robicheaux then I would love to take the job.” Cassandra sipped her own cup of coffee trying not to frown at the horribly burnt coffee, this man didn’t make coffee at all it seemed. 

  
  


“Wonderful! Welcome aboard miss Elwood.” he extended his hand for her to shake “Now why I don’t I show you to your room and then how about a grand tour?” Cassandra was thankful to leave the hot brown water behind as she followed her employer out of the room. 

 

“Sir, I think I’m going to need a grand map or maybe a ball of twine...if there is one long enough.” Goodnight laughed at her enthusiasm and guided her up the main staircase. Cassandra’s eyes never stopped wandering as the owner chatted about the house, leading her down one corridor after another. He stopped at a room probably somewhere towards the back of the house. 

 

“This is your room darlin’, I hope it is to your likin’.” Goodnight reached for the door handle, opening it into a beautifully furnished room of royal blues and cream. He watched with amusement as she dropped her things at the foot of the four poster bed and slowly examined the room, her mouth open in sheer wonder. 

 

“I-is this alright for me to use? I mean I’m just a maid…” 

 

“Well you are going to be effectively living here so I’d like to make sure you were comfortable. Is the colour scheme to your liking? I can have a different room prepared.” Cassandra shook her head and bowed to him,

 

“This room is wonderful, thank you very much, Mister Robicheaux.” 

 

“Splendid.” He brimmed with glee clapping his hands together “Now, that tour. Come come.” He was very eager to show her around. “Don’t worry about cleaning this place all in one day. That is downright impossible without an army.” He chuckled, though cleaning a place like this would be a daunting task with it being so large. “I have taken the liberty of labelling the other residents’ doors, just until you get the hang of things.” Cass nodded as she followed Goodnight around a corner.

 

“How many actually live here?”

 

“Including myself, seven. Billy Rocks, Joshua Faraday, Jack Horne, Red Harvest, Vasquez, Sam Chisolm and me.” 

 

“Red Harvest?” she asked curiously, 

 

“Comanche..a tribesman...an i-”

 

“A native..all the way out here?”

 

“It’s a long story. We’re an odd bunch that live there. I used to live in New Orleans before I came over here.” This man sounded like he had had quite a few adventures that Cassandra wouldn’t mind hearing one day. She mulled on one of the other names mentioned it rang a bell until she made the connection. 

 

“Wait..Sam Chisolm? The bounty hunter? The one that has that permanent scowl like he stepped in cow dung? That Sam Chisholm?” It was rumoured that the bounty hunter didn’t necessarily hunt humans but strange beasts and creatures. 

 

“Oh, you’ve met?” Goodnight had to stop himself laughing at her description of Sam,

 

“I haven’t had dealings with him personally but I’ve seen him ride through town a couple of times.”

 

“Well you still won’t see too much of him, to be fair.” He stopped in the middle of the corridor and pointed out two rooms on one side and one opposite “Red Harvest, Vasquez and that’s Faraday’s on this side.” She nodded and noticed the starting letter of each of their names hanging on their respective doors. He led her down another corridor: “This is Jack’s room and that’s Sam’s. Though Jack and Red prefer to sleep outside.”

 

“Is that safe? I mean aren’t these forests crawling with wolves?” she asked, her brow knitting into a concerned frown.

 

“They sleep within the grounds.” Cassandra nodded, not feeling the love of camping outside at all with so many wolves in the area. Goodnight proceeded to lead her down another very long corridor where all the curtains were tightly drawn. “This is my room and a little further down is Billy’s. You won’t see much of Billy: he sleeps a lot during the day. Hence why the curtains remained closed.” He looked to Cassandra who just nodded calmly. 

 

“Some people prefer the night. I can understand that. The evening has its own charm and has considerably less people.” 

 

Her understanding of Billy’s strange sleeping pattern seemed to surprise Goodnight.

 

“I’ll be honest, you don’t seem too concerned about that..”

 

“If you think I’m one of those superstitious idiots from the town and convinced this place is haunted with ghouls or whatever hocus pocus they can conjure up, I’m not.” She shrugged and stroked the heavy burgundy velvet curtains. “Some people just prefer the night. I’m here to clean, not poke my nose into other people’s business.”

 

“Well, thank you for being so understandin’.” This time when Cassandra caught a glimpse of Goodnight’s smile she noticed a gold tooth and something strangely predatory in the way he seemed to merge with the shadows. “We still have a lot of ground to cover.” Goodnight led her back into the main halls and pointed out a library, study and music room, all of which she was free to use as she saw fit. Cassandra nodded and made a mental note of the rules and guidelines he laid down. 

 

They were heading back down another lengthy corridor that made up this maze of a building when the blonde stopped in her tracks, gazing out the window that overlooked the rear garden which was even more extensive than the front. Her excited gasp caught Goodnight’s attention. 

 

“You have a hedge maze? I haven’t seen one of those since England.”

 

“It’s not well kept I’m afraid. The upkeep is awful and I don’t even know where to start after all these years of neglect” He sighed, scratching his beard, joining her by the large arch window. 

 

“Can I take it on as a side project?” 

  
  


Goodnight looked down at her and nodded. 

_ She’s certainly taking everything in her stride which is reassuring: the others barely lasted a week. Perhaps she would be different. _

 

“If you’re sure it’s not too much trouble.. I can get the boys to give you a hand.”

 

“You said they’re busy. I can manage. I’ll need something to do in my spare time.” 

 

Her smile reaffirmed Goodnight’s hope and he rested a hand on her shoulder 

 

“I hope you like it here.”

 

“I like it already...though-” she paused a moment and laughed nervously shuffling on the spot “I don’t remember the way back to my room. I was so busy looking at the decor…” 

 

Goodnight shared in her laughter and offered to guide her back. 

 

_ This one is promising. Let’s hope it stays that way. _

  
  
  



	2. A New Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An early post. I was going to post this on Halloween buuut I'm on track right now so hopefully there'll be another update on Halloween :)

**Two days prior.**

 

“It’s nice to have you all turn up for once.” Goodnight stood in front of the large black wood fireplace, his back facing the other occupants of the dimly-lit parlour room and the fire casting a sinister glow around him, “I called this house meeting to discuss a few changes.”

 

There was an audible groan from one Joshua Faraday who was sat on the back of a dark red armchair, boots firmly planted into the cushion “Come on, Goodnight, if this is about that rug...I said I was sorry.” Goodnight turned slowly; his eyes flashed gold in the warm glow of the fire and Joshua felt his body shudder as the older man smiled at him with an eerie kindness.

 

“I wasn’t referring to my favourite rug,” he started, the grin never leaving his lips, “that you rolled around on bare as a newborn and then vomited over.” Faraday tensed as Goodnight favoured him with a cold unfeeling stare. “Chairs are for bottoms not feet, so get your filthy boots off my furniture before I make you into a rug.”

 

Faraday was quick to shift his posterior to the correct part of the chair, avoiding Goodnight’s glare. “Back to the topic at hand:  we have a new maid.” Goodnight turned to face them all properly and looked at the worried glances “She will be coming up in two days’ time. I expect everyone to be on their best behaviour and can we not scare this one away.” He turned his attention to the sofa. “Billy Rocks, Red Harvest, I’m looking at you two.” The quietest members of the group looked from the sofa with confusion plastered across their faces. “You two are the worst for creeping up on people. Can you try to be a little more vocal or make sounds?”

 

“Why don’t we tie bells to them? Like cats.” Everyone looked at Faraday with surprise. “What?” he asked.

 

“That’s actually a good idea.” Goodnight hummed, and Jack nodded, though the idea was shot down by both Billy and Red who disapproved of being collared like a domestic pet.

 

“Son, you can’t talk.” Jack shook his head at the Irishman “You need to stop stripping in the main hall.”

 

“And leaving your clothes scattered about.” Goodnight added.

 

“What? I don’t want to rip them!” Faraday argued “How am I supposed-“

 

“Güero, just change in the forest. Ain’t hard.” Vasquez was standing at the slightly open window a cigar resting in his lips. “You scared away far too many _chicas_ with that pale _culo_ of yours.”

 

“‘That’s enough!” Goodnight stamped his foot down on the floor, silencing them both quickly as the shadows seemed to grow around him. “You will all refrain from anything that will scare away our new guest. If this one leaves then you’ll all be helping to clean this house. Do I make myself clear?”

 

Everyone nodded and mumbled a response.

 

“Good.”

 

-

 

The dawning sun crept through a small gap in the heavy velvet curtains, casting its rays over Cassandra’s sleeping form. A yawn escaped her lips and she rolled over, burrowing into the heavy soft sheets away from the sun. A few moments later she sat up, yawning again, and looked around her room – it was going to take some getting used to waking up in a room like this. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes she swung her legs out from the warm covers onto the plush rug that covered most of the dark pine wooden floor and shuffled over to the basin of water in the corner of her room. The water was cold and a very good wake up call.  
  
Brushing her hair and braiding it back, Cassandra changed into a simple black skirt, a dark blue blouse, a white apron to cover her clothes and brown boots. Goodnight hadn't really set a uniform so Cassandra had opted for comfy and practical.  

 

“There we go...somewhat presentable,” she nodded, looking in the mirror one last time, then she made her bed and threw open the curtains, illuminating the room in the bright morning sun. Satisfied that everything was tidy, she clapped her hands together. “Let's get started”  As she crossed the room her hand reached for the long barrelled rifle propped up beside the bed, and turning the gun around in her hands a few times she contemplated whether or not it should accompany her around the house. “No...no I don’t need it….not now. ” She laid the gun on the smooth blue velvet counterpane that laid across the bottom half of her bed and left it behind.

 

“Let’s see. Alright, I should eat a little breakfast first.” Cassandra glanced up from the piece of parchment on which Goodnight had drawn a simple layout of the house to help her navigate. The curtains of the halls were already pulled opened and the morning light illuminating the walls – someone must have risen before her.

“Perhaps it was Mr Robicheaux, he seems like an early riser.”

 

The large kitchen was situated at the back of the building. It had an equally large dining room which conjoined the kitchen and two large glass doors that opened out onto the garden which showed signs that someone had been busy there. There was no one in the kitchen and no sign of anyone having dined there this morning. “Maybe they went straight out…” Cassandra hummed.   
  


She found some cheese and ham in the pantry and sat down the table with her breakfast and a cup of coffee since this house was void of tea. She studied the map again and tried to remember what state the rooms had been in. “I suppose I’ll start with the parlour.” Clearing up her dishes, she located a bucket and cleaning utensils and headed to the parlour.

 

She pushed open the heavy door and poked her head inside to find the room still bathed in darkness. Setting the bucket and items down in the centre of the room she found the large tasselled rope that was connected to the curtains and pulled them open.

 

In daylight the parlour proved to be a very nice room but apparently unused. Glancing around at the room’s hidden marvels, Cassandra noticed another set of footprints leading from the door to the grand piano that stood in the far corner of the room. “Well, at least the piano’s clean,” she mused, willing herself to start on the laborious task of cleaning such a big room.

 

As she scrubbed away the layers of dirt and watched the water run across the wooden floor she couldn't help but question herself.

 

_What on earth am I doing here?_

_What do I know about being a maid?_

 

“No. No, I can’t think like that. I have to be here. It’s the best place,” she argued quietly with herself, working with concentration until she bumped into the piano. She had been so engrossed in cleaning the floor that she had made quite the amateur mistake of backing herself into the corner.

 

“Well, shit,” she laughed; the floor would take a little time to dry so she carefully slid onto the little white stool belonging to the piano and lifted the lid. The ivory keys were well used but had been taken care of properly. Gingerly she reached out to press down the middle C key, then slowly she raised her other hand, setting it apart from the other, and began to play a song her grandfather had played to her as a child.

 

She couldn’t remember the name of it but it had something to do with the moon. He always told her that the moon was the light for some creatures. They weren’t inherently evil because of it but often more cautious than sun folk. They just needed reassurance that it was safe because most people were scared of things they didn’t understand.

 

_One day you will follow in our footsteps._

 

A little smile tugged at her lips when she recalled those afternoons she shared with her grandfather and her father – but it wasn’t to be. Her fingers slowly carried on the melody but the smile faded from her lips until she stopped playing completely. Tears threatened to fall from her eyes as she bit her lip to stop it quivering. It had happened so fast.

 

The sound of clapping brought Cassandra out of her thoughts, and looking over her shoulder she spotted Goodnight stood by the door.

 

“Mr Robicheaux!  I am sorr-” She had forgotten how close the bucket was to the stool and as she bolted up from her chair she tripped over it, knocking it and herself to the floor. Water spilled everywhere.

 

“Good heavens.” Goodnight hurried over to her side. “Are you alright, dear?” Cassandra pushed herself up into a kneeling position and sighed, her shoulders slumping deeply. Her clothes had absorbed water like a sponge.

 

“Sorry, Sir. I was supposed to be cleaning, not making more mess.”

 

Goodnight smiled at her kindly and offered her a hand. “That’s quite alright, these things happen. Now let's get you dried off before you catch a cold.” She took his hand and he helped her up. “It was rather peculiar to hear the piano since I am the only one that really plays it.”

 

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask perm....” her words trailed off when her eyes picked up something in the shadows just outside the door. It almost looked like when the air was too hot and made waves.

 

“By all means play it whenever you like.” Goodnight followed her gaze over his shoulder “What’s wrong?”

 

“Huh, sorry. I just thought I saw something...I’ll clean this up and change.” Cassandra quickly mopped up the spilt water before hurrying off, bucket and utensils in hand.

-

 

Goodnight watched Cassandra leave with a smile: she was certainly more promising than the previous maids they had hired. He sat down at the piano,  closed his eyes and played a song he was fond of himself, an old one he knew from being a boy. The shadows fluttered like curtains in a brisk summer breeze and out stepped a young man with soft dark hair falling over equally dark eyes. He wore a loose fitting white shirt that hung lazily over his shoulders and dark blue tailored trousers.

 

“Is that her?”

 

Goodnight opened one eye to look at the young man standing next to the piano. “She saw you, you know.” Closing his eye again Goodnight carried on playing his sombre tune “Try not to scare her away, Billy.”

 

“I’ll try.”

 

“Then try entering a room like a person.”

 

Goodnight’s words fell on deaf ears as Billy vanished into the shadows. “I’m going back to sleep,” came Billy’s voice from the darkness, leaving Goodnight to sigh and wonder who was going to mess it up this time.

  


-Billy Rocks-

 

It was the sound of an unfamiliar tune flowing into the darkness that had stirred him, though no sunlight penetrated the extra thick velvet curtains of his room. Billy Rocks sat up, yawning and running a lazy hand through his unruly hair, then swung his legs out of bed onto the cold wooden floor. Not bothering to open the curtains he located a shirt and trousers and pulled them, then left the room though not through the conventional door: he simply disappeared through the shadows.

 

Following the sound of music he stopped at the parlour. Goodnight was already there listening quietly. “Mornin’, Billy.”

Billy nodded in response.

 

Goodnight clapped, making his presence known to the pianist, and Billy had watched the interaction curiously from the safety of the hallway. He had tensed when the blonde haired woman Goody had been talking to stared at him.

 

_That can’t be...no one should be able to…_

 

But her eyes hadn’t wavered and for a moment Billy had panicked: what if she had spotted him in the shadows? Goody would be very angry if he’d ruined it already. But the woman had cleaned up the water she had spilled and run past him,  her eyes cast down this time as if she didn’t want to see him.

 

When she had gone he slipped into the room to listen to Goody play.

 

“She saw you, you know.”

 

_He’s disappointed…._


	3. Frozen Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Old Memories,  
> New Memories,  
> New greetings,  
> Old wounds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY HALLOWEEN! Here's a treat for my lovely readers. Thank you for all your support! Have a grand old spooky day!

“You need to stay here with your mother.”

 

“Wait! Let me come with you! I can help!” she protested.

 

A heavy hand rested on her shoulder and her father smiled at her proudly

 

“I need you here, Cassandra. Protect your mother. I’ll be back.” He smiled one last time, then ran from their home into the woods. 

 

Cassandra sat on the steps of their porch clutching the rifle that was almost bigger than her. The cold air nipped at her ears as she waited and rain started to fall, breaking the deafening silence. 

 

Suddenly a gunshot echoed through the night. Cassandra jumped to her feet and ran towards the edge of their garden, heart pounding against her chest. Several more gunshots rang out.

 

“Dad…” Gripping her rifle Cassandra ran into the forest, slipping on the softening? mud beneath her feet “Hang on, I’m coming.” She ran and ran, following the distant sounds of fighting, her clothes now sodden with the rain. 

 

A small clearing opened up before her, and there was her father, dodging an attack from a large bipedal monster that towered over him by at least four or five foot, broad like a bear but with canine features, it’s teeth were the size of her hand and it’s claws far bigger. “A werewolf..” She had never seen one so large. Her father was bleeding heavily from numerous lacerations, his body was noticeably shaking but that didn’t stop him from fighting and dodgin the violent swings of the wolf. He needed her help: this was her chance. 

 

Raising the rifle she took aim and fired a shot which clipped the beast’s ear. “Get away from him!” she cried.

 

Her father turned in alarm. “Cassandra, stay back!” 

 

The werewolf was quick: it leapt over him and landed with a thud in front of her, It’s growl chilling her blood. She tried to aim but the were swiped the gun out of her hands, tearing into her arm and chest as it did so and tossing her across the clearing. She collapsed at the base of a tree, unable to move, her vision blurring. In her last few seconds of consciousness she witnessed the werewolf sinking its fangs into her father's shoulder and tearing him apart with shocking strength.

  
  


-

 

Thunder echoed outside, drowning out the sound of her cry as Cassandra bolted up in her bed and glanced around in alarm. Once she had calmed her breathing she swung her legs from the bed to the soft rug for a moment then pushed herself from the bed and walked over to the window. She pulled open the heavy curtain: rain was hammering against the glass and a flash of lightning illuminated the room. Cassandra reached to touch at her shoulder, the scar that throbbed it usually did on nights like this. 

 

Placing her back to the window she slid down onto the floor, pulling her knees into her chest. “Why...? I should have been stronger…It should have been….me.” She rocked to and fro as she sobbed into her knees. As sleep slowly took her Cassandra slumped to the side … but a hand stopped her head hitting the stone floor. 

 

A strange scent flowed around her: it smelt like the outside...like the earth.  _ Grass.. .no...parsley?  _

 

A sudden warmth enveloped her and Cassandra opened her eyes slowly, blinking to try and focus them. “Who...are you.?” She could only make out disconnected features as the lightning illuminated the room: dark eyes, dark hair, a delicate jawline..a moustache…

 

She felt the bed soft beneath her and the covers pulled over her to keep out the bitter cold. 

 

“Sleep.” The voice was sweeter than honey. “Sleep now.” Cassandra snuggled into the covers and succumbed to sleep at the gentle behest of the voice. She slept peacefully through the storm until dawn. 

 

Yawning, Cassandra slowly sat up, pushing her long hair out of her eyes. She turned her gaze to the large window where one side of the curtain was drawn slightly back. The storm … the nightmare… when had she gotten back into bed? “That’s funny...I don’t remember …” Perhaps she had simply sleepwalked herself back. 

 

Through the window she could see that the storm had passed, but the sun still hid behind a wall of thick gray clouds. “What a lovely day,” she hummed sarcastically, pulling her nightshirt off and dropping it next to the bowl of water on the beautiful antique dresser. The large oval mirror that sat on top of it showed the ugly scar that ran from the top of her left shoulder diagonally down to just under her bosom; her left arm bore two chunky scars from the same incident which she hid under long-sleeved shirts and dresses. She should be thankful she hadn’t lost an arm. Or her life.

Splashing the water across her face woke up her completely, and with one last look in the mirror Cassandra hurried herself to get ready. 

  
  


-

Goodnight sat in his favourite armchair in the library in front of a warm fire, listening to the storm rage outside. Nights like this were the best, when he was alone to read quietly with no disruptions – though it also left him alone with his thoughts. Old memories, old wounds always haunted him when he was alone. 

 

Through the thunderous sounds of the storm Goodnight heard the main door opening and the murmur of voices.  He moved from his warm spot, pulling on a dark blue smoking jacket before vanishing into the shadows and appearing at the top of the main hall’s stairs. “Faraday, that better not be mud on your boots.” 

 

“So? Ain’t that what you hired a maid for?” Faraday bit back quickly; he was always irritable when he was tired. 

 

“That doesn’t mean for you to make more mess for her. Take them off. Now,” Goodnight ordered, walking down the stairs. “Welcome back, Jack.” 

 

Faraday grumbled under his breath but he pulled off his mud-caked boots and chucked them near the door, then headed straight up the stairs leaving a trail of water behind him.

 

“We got some venison and some wild boar.” Jack patted the stack of animals beside the door. “Vasquez, son, could you-”

 

“Si, I’ll take it through.” Vasquez lifted the deer over his shoulder and grabbed the boar under his arm, trudging through towards the kitchen. 

 

“Red?” asked Goodnight.

 

“He went to see Rosemary in Springs,” explained Jack. “I heard Sam will be passing through soon so I think he’ll come back with him.” Jack set his own boots beside the door. “I doubt I’ll sleep, so I’ll make a start on curing the meet.”

 

“I’ll keep you company,” offered Goodnight following Jack through to the kitchen. 

 

“How is our guest doing? Unless Billy has frightened her away.” Jack asked grabbing an apron that was hung near the doors leading out to the garden. Goody took a spot at the well worn wooden dining table 

 

“Well she’s still here. She’s a rather nice young lady. Strangely understanding of Billy’s nocturnal life.” Goodnight explained scratching his beard “Though now ya’ll back I think it’ll test the waters.”

 

“I’ll try and keep Joshua from causing too much of a problem.”

 

“That boy is a walking problem.” Goody sighed running a hand through his greying hair “But only time will tell.”

  
  


-

 

“Mornin’, petite,” he smiled at Cassandra who appeared at the doorway to the kitchen’s small adjoined dining area, setting his china cup down on the saucer, “I hope you’re hungry, Jack insisted on cooking for you.” She seemed so alarmed at the prospect that Goodnight couldn’t help but laugh “Don’t worry, Jack is a far better cook than I.” That being established Jack appeared from the kitchen area carrying two plates stacked with food.

 

“Good morning, dear, I hope you’re hungry. Come sit, sit.” Cassandra took a spot at the table sitting up straight as Jack set down the plate in front of her. Jack was an older gentleman showing his years more than Goodnight, a robust figure that had seen many winters but that only served to make his kindness shrine brighter  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, miss. Goodnight told me all about you.” 

 

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr Horne.”

 

Jack’s chair scraped across the wooden slats of the kitchen floor as he pulled it up to the table. “Jack is just fine. Now eat up while it’s warm.” He smiled at her so kindly. Cassandra had picked up her knife and fork when she noticed that Jack had his hands clasped together, quietly speaking a prayer. 

 

Goody watched curiously as she quickly set the cutlery back down and listened to Jack’s prayer. “Amen.” 

“I didn’t peg you for that sort.” 

 

Cassandra looked up at Goodnight and seemed to contemplate her answer. “I’m not but it would be rude to start while someone else is saying grace.” She warily started eating but after the first few mouthfuls her eyes lit up. 

 

“That good?” 

 

She nodded eagerly and devoured the rest of her breakfast but not forgetting her table manners. “Goodnight said you were on a hunting trip.”

 

“Aye, we were. Brought back some venison and some wild boar. The boys are still sleeping, we got back early this morning. Oh..I apologize – we did leave quite a mess in the hall. Joshua brought in half the forest with him.” 

 

“That’s okay, Mr Horne. It’s what I’m paid for.” She excused herself and cleared her plates, taking them to scrub with the other pots. “After I’ve cleaned the hall I’m going to check on the garden, it was an awful storm last night.”

 

Jack signalled for her to wait a moment as he finished his mouthful.l “Be careful outside, the mud is very slippery.” She dropped a small curtsey and hurried out of the room.  He turned to Goodnight. “What a nice young lady.”

 

“And yet you’re frowning.” Goodnight pointed out over his cup of coffee 

 

“She smells like gunpowder.”

 

“She did arrive carrying a large rifle that is a little more than ‘just for protection’”

 

“Do you think she’s a-” Jack looked troubled.

 

“I doubt it. They don’t allow women in their ranks unless they’re a herbalist or good at medicine.” 

 

Jack hummed at the notion she wasn’t who she said she was but it remained to be seen. 

 

-

Fortunately the mess in the hall wasn’t nearly as bad as Jack had said, just a few pairs of boots with more visible mud than leather. She set to cleaning the dried mud stains on the floor and moved the boots to the back of the house to let the dirt dry fully before she even attempted to clean them. 

 

While she waited, Cassandra headed outside to see if anything needed immediate attention. It was the first time she had gotten a chance to look at the garden properly. There was a well built wooden tool shed watching over a small vegetable patch and a greenhouse full of herbs. which looked wholly undamaged by the storm and also the only part of the garden that was tended to. 

 

“Probably Jack..he seems like the type.” she hummed as she ventured further into the garden. It needed weeding for certain, but maybe when the weather had warmed up. The storm seemed to have done very little to the garden or at least if it had she couldn’t tell from the state of things. 

 

Cassandra closed her eyes as she ambled, taking in a sharp breath of cold air. 

This quiet atmosphere surrounded by thick forests reminded her of home.

_ Home. Where was that…It’s all gone.  _

 

She opened her eyes to find herself at the gateway to the maze. The entrance itself was mostly overgrown from years of neglect and seemed eerily magical. 

 

“Grandma always said be wary of fairy rings and anything potentially dangerous,” Cassandra reminisced out loud, kneeling down to a small opening in the hedge. She smiled mischievously “But then grandpa taught me to be adventurous.” 

 

Crawling through the small gap Cassandra had to keep low since the hedges were very much the same. When she got to the first corner she noticed a little patch of flowers which didn’t belong in a maze. Tucking her skirt into the leather belt at her waist she knelt down to inspect the them, a sweet blue-purple flower that looked like a little hood. She poked at the stem, careful not to touch the actual flower. “Wolfsbane...oh dear. You definitely can’t stay here but I think I have a use for you.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a handkerchief “Good. Now let's find some tools.. The toolshed!” She jumped to her feet in such urgency that the low hedge slipped her mind and she wound up with parts of her hair tangled in its grasp. 

 

Once free Cassandra hurried from the maze and ran across the garden, almost slipping twice on the thick mud. The door to the tool shed was unlocked: it creaked open loudly, the smell of dust and wet wood making her sneeze. She rummaged around for the tools required. A large pair of thick leather gloves, she tucked them into her belt, a pair of shears to make getting into the maze a little easier and a shovel since she couldn't find anything smaller. 

 

She set the shears down against the shed so she could relatch the door, but as she pulled it to it revealed a person standing behind it. 

 

Cassandra jumped, grabbed the shovel with both hands and swung it so hard in defence that it lodged itself in the corner post of the shed. 

 

“Woah woah, chica!” Fortunately the person had dodged her initial swing and quickly made themselves known as she yanked the shovel out of the shed. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

 

Cassandra suddenly realised her mistake. Normal people would have screamed but no, she set to arm herself.

 

“I am so sorry..” To her surprise she was greeted with laughter. The man that had snuck up on her was tall, so tall she had to take a step back so as to not crane her neck. This had to be one of Jack’s: he definitely had the abundance of curly hair. “Are you one of Jack’s boys?”

 

“Si, though Jack isn’t my padre. He likes to adopt strays.” The man held out his hand. “Vasquez,” he grinned as she took it and shook it quickly.

 

“Cassandra. The..maid..” Introductions done, Cassandra turned to relatch the tool shed and picked up the shears and shovel. 

 

“Brava. Working on the garden?” Vasquez moved to take the shears to make it easier for her to walk. “Careful, it's muddy.” They stopped at the entrance to the maze. “This is a big job, shouldn’t you wait-”

 

“There’s a patch of poisonous plants. I’d prefer to get rid of them now or I’ll forget.” 

 

Vasquez opened the way for her with the shears, cutting through the branches with ease, and moving quickly under the overhanging branches she relocated the little patch. She drove the shovel into the ground around the plants and carefully lifted them up, making sure no root remained. “Gloves,” she reminded herself out loud, pulling on the thick hide gloves before lifting the plants one by one onto the small white handkerchief, six in total. Keeping the gloves on for protection and with the shovel tucked under her arm she carried them slowly towards the entrance. 

 

“What’cha got there?” Vasquez asked, peering over her shoulder.

 

“Aconite. Wolfsbane.” 

 

“Wolfsbane?” Vasquez repeated, staring at the plant with a frown.

 

“Yes, it’s highly poisonous but it also has some medicinal properties.” She noticed his questioning glance “I’m going to take it to the apothecary, they pay for things like this,” she added quickly to try and alleviate his concerns.

 

“Si...do you..need a hand with anything else, chica?” Vasquez asked, finally changing the subject.

 

“Do you have have a set of ladders? I need some to reach the curtains in the main hall…kind of short..”

 

Vasquez laughed. “Sure thing, chica.”

-

 

Cassandra flopped down onto her bed. It was odd -- she felt as though nothing had been done today, so why did she feel so exhausted? The sound of the driving rain pattering against the window became so rhythmic it was like a soft song lulling her to sleep. 

 

A sudden loud crash made her bolt upright; it wasn’t thunder. 

 

“Maybe someone broke a vase…” Cassandra swung her legs off the bed and into her boots. Lacing them up quickly she rose to her feet: her long cotton nightshirt covered the tops of her boots. She walked quietly around her room listening for any other noises as she gathered what she needed: a thick leather belt which she tightened it around her waist -- several pouches hung from it, and one large dagger. 

 

Just as she reached for the second belt there came another loud crash. She grabbed the long double-barrelled rifle that rested against the bedside table and bolted out of the door.  

 

She wasn’t the religious sort but she mumbled a small prayer as she ran down the maze of corridors. The sound of deep growls filled her ears as she slowed to halt at the top of the stairs. Her breath was already unsteady but the sight of large canine like creature in the centre of the main hall filled her body with a sudden energy. The thing that always frightened her the most about weres were their height. From human to beast they seemed to grow taller this one looked almost ten foot in height. It’s fur was a sandy brown colour and it’s back had bone spikes protruding from it like some strange porcupine hybrid.  Taking a deep breath she gripped the rifle tightly as the scars on her chest throbbed.

 

_ It never gets easier.  _

 

“JOSHUA, GET AWAY!” 

 

_ Joshua? Jack’s boy?  _

 

Cassandra inched closer to see Jack with a firm hand on the back of a young dark haired man’s neck as a blond one tore his shirt off and growled back at the beast. He howled loudly, shifting into a were a few inches shorter than the intruder, this were was more normal and of a coyote in breed. 

 

_ This..this isn’t my..fight.. _

 

If only she could hide out a little longer. The one she was hunting wasn’t here.. 

 

As the bigger beast batted Joshua out the way she noticed a brand between its shoulder blades. Cursing, she lifted her rifle and shot the beast through its shoulder as it rounded on Joshua again. 

 

Vaulting the white banister of the stairs, she fired another shot in midair which just clipped its large pointed ears. Snarling, the beast turned and escaped into the night, knocking over another vase in the process. As her feet touched the floor she moved with the momentum and followed the beast out into the driving rain, reloading as she ran. 

 

_ This time I’ll end it. _

 


	4. Night of the wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Games played,  
> bring forth sour outcomes.  
> The rain laments,  
> the cries of wolves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> an update!

Faraday’s days usually began around lunch time and today had been no different: after their hunting trip he had an excuse to sleep without Jack hounding him for being lazy. 

 

Finally emerging from under a pile of blankets Faraday yawned, stepped over several piles of discarded clothes and pulled opened the curtains to let the light into his room. “What a bleak ass day,” he mumbled through another yawn as he scratched his bare buttocks. “Guess I best show my face.” He set to finding some clean clothes among the disarray scattered across his floor, picking them up to sniff. “These don’t smell so bad.” Unable to find a pair of shoes, Faraday left his hovel and headed downstairs barefoot, he rarely bothered with socks and half the time it was because he could never find two.

. 

“Jack! Jack, where are my boots?” he bellowed from the front hall. 

 

“Don’t shout, Joshua,’ huffed Jack, appearing from the kitchen, ‘your boots are by the back door. And good morning to you too. What time do you call this? It’s well past noon.”

 

“Come on, Jack, I was tired.” Joshua rambled through the kitchen and found his boots at the back door as Jack had said. His brow furrowed as he inspected them:  the inches of mud that had been caked on them had vanished. “Jack! Jack, why are my boots clean?” 

 

“Our new maid cleaned them for you.” A wooden spoon bounced off his skull. “And what did I just say about shouting?” 

  
  
  


“I’m heading down to town,” Faraday grumbled, pulling his boots on.

  
  
  


“Try not to get into trouble. I hear Bogue’s boys have been prowling around….” Jack’s words faded behind him as Faraday practically ran from the house. . 

 

_ What does Jack know? I’m just going to have a drink – I can handle myself.. _

  
  
  


The day flew by and Faraday had decided it was time to head on home. He whistled a cheerful tune as he walked through town pocketing the bag of coin he had successfully fleeced one Thomas McCann. The one person Jack had warned him not to trifle with but it was the one person Faraday enjoyed picking a fight with. Their history was rocky, always had been, rivals since the day Faraday had waltzed into town. The amount of times McCann had lost money to him was high. 

Just as Faraday was often referred to as Jack’s boy. McCann was part of a family...or rather something darker, a pack. One of Bogue’s boys. And Bart Bogue was not a well respected person but rather a  feared one. Fortunately Bogue was never in the area so that left Faraday a good opportunity to remind McCann that he wasn’t a such tough old wolf. More like a stuck up little rich boy using his father’s influence. 

 

The skies darkened once more and rain started to fall. “Aw, come on!” Faraday cursed at the sky, picking up his pace. The iron gate of the manor creaked loudly as he pushed it open and hurried down the garden path, setting his hand on the door handle as thunder clapped loudly over head. 

 

“You won’t be so merry soon, Faraday.” A growl came from behind him as he was kicked through the partially open door. Faraday picked himself up as the weedy form of McCann followed him in. The door was thrown open the cold night air flooding in.

 

“What the hell do you want? Is this about the cards? Are you that much of a sore loser?” Faraday mocked 

“You cheated!”

 

“I did not need to cheat to beat the likes of you.” he added a smirk tugging at his lips.

 

McCann sneered his fingers growing into sharp claws “Right bunch of pampered pooches.” he scoffed, kicking over an end table with a small vase on it “Oh no, is your master going to be angry?”

 

“You’re a dead man, McCann.” Faraday cracked his knuckles, poised to lunge. 

 

“Bring it, pup.” McCann snarled, running across the hall his claws bared, but the large form of Jack suddenly blocked his path and a swift punch set the smaller man off balance.

 

“That is quite enough.” Jack walked over to Faraday. “I told you to keep out of trouble.” Vasquez had followed the sound of the commotion but Jack placed a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t.” His grip on the back of Faraday’s neck was less gentle. “Joshua, calm down. McCann, go home” Jack ordered.

 

“Fuck you, old man.” McCann snarled and howled, his body jerking and bones cracking as he shifted into a tall wolf creature. His clothes hung off him in tatters: McCann wasn’t so weedy now, with yellow eyes and teeth large like knives, his breath poured out of his mouth like smoke in the cold air. 

 

“McCann go home!” Jack said a little louder “I won’t have fighting in this house.”

 

“Why? because that blood sucking bag of bones said so?” McCann’s voice was deeper and echoed around the hall. “Just his damn lap dogs.”

 

“That’s it!” Faraday pulled away from Jack and shifted himself, tearing another set of trousers, but even after his shift he still stood a few inches shorter than McCann. 

 

“Joshua, get out of the way!” Jack shouted.

 

A gunshot echoed through the hall, making them all flinch and McCann let out a howl of pain. 

 

“Mira, mira!” Vasquez shouted,and Faraday glanced behind him to see a figure airborne, a long dress billowing as they raised the gun to fire another round in midair. McCann snarled and ran clumsily out of the house. Faraday got a quick look at the girl whose eyes were sharp and focused on her target. It seemed she was no stranger to the hunt - there was no halt in her movements from jumping the banister to her boots touching the floor, and she reloaded as she followed McCann out into the driving rain. 

 

“I heard gunsh-” Goody appeared from the darkness with Billy at his heels. Faraday shifted back, turning his shock to the owner of the house.

 

“You brought a hunter in?!” he shouted, pointing towards the door. 

 

“How was I supposed to know?” Goodnight said trying to defend his actions.

 

“Since when do maids bring hunting rifles with them, she’s here to wipe us out!”

 

“I don’t think so. She’s had plenty of chances to do so” Goodnight sighed. “Put some clothes on.” 

 

“Maybe we’ll be lucky and McCann’ll kill her,” Faraday snarled, grabbing the discarded shirt which fortunately had survived his shift and pulling it back on to cover some of his nakedness. 

 

Jack had remained oddly silent, his gaze still on the door. “Jack?” Faraday frowned as Jack inched towards the open door “Jack?!”

 

“I can’t let a young lady face that alone.”

 

“Hunters can take care of themselves,” snapped Faraday, but Jack ignored his shouting and ran out of the house. 

 

-

 

The rain didn’t bother Jack as he ran into the treacherous forest. Hunter or not, he couldn’t leave her alone: her eyes didn’t hold a desire to kill but for revenge and those seeking revenge rarely lived a long life. Following the smell of gunpowder Jack cast around among the uprooting trees. 

 

“Oh Lord, no.” His pace slowed for a split second when he noticed a body slumped at the base of a tree. “Cassandra!” He ran to her side and carefully rolled her over. A little sigh of relief left his mouth - she was still alive though unconscious, her blonde hair stuck to her face a mixture of rain and blood. Gently he pushed the hair aside and tried to find the source of the wound: a small but deep cut crept onto her forehead from her hairline.

 

“Let's get you back now.” Jack slowly picked her up along with the long-barrelled rifle which she refused to yield even whilst she slept. 

“I warned you to be careful,” he hummed as he headed back to the house.His heart ached for her, a young woman driven to such lengths for revenge, an act that might end up costing her life. He had witnessed so many others die needlessly and he would rather not see anymore. He held her closer to his chest protectively: Goodnight would see reason..he hoped.

 

When he walked through the door “You brought her back?!” Faraday snapped looking up from the mess he was trying to clear up. “Should have handed her to Mc-” 

 

“Joshua Faraday, that is enough!” Jack snapped as his eyes flashing gold, It was rare to see him angry. “I suspect this young lady has been through more than we realise. Goodnight, might I have a word when I’ve tended to her?” 

 

“Goodness, Jack, I’ve kept my temperament for centuries; a little whiff of blood isn’t going to make me drunk.” Goodnight huffed, affronted  He accompanied Jack to their guest’s room. “How is she?”

 

“She slipped in the woods and knocked herself out on a tree root.” Jack explained. He took her boots off and set them beside the bedside table before laying her on the bed. “I don’t think she meant us harm.”

 

“I agree. I reckon she understands a little more than she’s letting on … but we can’t be too careful.” 

 

Jack sat on the edge of Cassandra’s bed “We can’t just throw her to the wolves.” 

 

Goodnight sighed -- he was curious to know exactly what spurred her to come to a like this, working as a maid, hunting.. “She fell down the stairs,” he stated, earning a confused but hopeful glance from Jack. “There was no wolf..no werewolves. She fell downstairs after Faraday made an unholy mess.”  

 

Jack’s shoulders slumped in relief and he rose from the bed to hug Goody tightly. This was a risky thing he was doing..

 

“Thank you, Goodnight. I’ll go explain it to the boys.” 

 

Jack hurried from the room to share the news and found the boys in the living room huddled near the fireplace. 

“I have some news.”

 

“She’s staying, ain’t she?” Faraday asked with a huff. “Could tell, you seem…happy.”

 

“Goodnight is sorting the situation out. If she asks, she fell down the stairs in the main hall after Joshua left a mess there, which to be fair isn’t far from the honest truth. 

 

“Hey, wait! Why is it my problem?” Joshua whined.

 

“No offence, güero, but you are the cause for most of the mess,” Vasquez pointed out.

 

“There were no wolves and no weres.” Jack explained. “So we are in agreeance?” Jack looked sternly between them and they nodded. ‘Good. I’ll be heading out tomorrow to go find Sam but for the time being we need to get everything cleaned up.” He frowned at Joshua again, “I warned you and you still went out of your way to antagonise McCann.” 

 

“Not my fault he’s shit at cards, Faraday mumbled under his breath “

 

“ Qu'as-tu dit , Joshua?” None of them had seen Goodnight appear from the shadows behind the chair Faraday was slouched in. “I should make a  _ tapis  _ from you,” he glowered, resting a hand on the back of the chair.

 

“How is she?” Jack clasped his hands together nervously 

 

Goodnight relaxed slightly “I’ve done all I can. We can only wait until she’s awake to see the outcome.” He clapped his hands together loudly “Now then, let's try and get things in order. Oh, and Faraday -- you are forbidden from going out alone, since it’s apparent you can’t be trusted unchaperoned.”

 

“No need to treat me like a child-” A hand gripped Faraday’s shoulder and he found himself looking into blue eyes turned to bright gold and a kind smile which was trying its best to hide Goodnight’s anger.

 

“Till you start following orders I’ll treat you like an  _ enfant _ . Tomorrow can accompany Jack. I have enough to deal with without having to make sure you’re not being a complete  _ imbécile _ ” When Goodnight got truly angry his English began to desert him. Faraday could only mumble an apology.

 

-

The mess wasn’t as bad as they had initially thought: some broken pottery, a few patches of blood from their fight and the rug tracked with mud. 

 

“Didn’t know the hunters let chicas join,” Vasquez mused as he checked the frame of the front door for damage.

 

“They do…to an extent,” Explained Goodnight, gathering the pieces of another broken vase. “Herbalists, healers and witches.”

 

“So what about her?” Faraday was lazily mopping the floor of mud. “She ain’t any of those.”

 

“Maybe she’s not with them.” Jack appeared, carrying a jug. ‘Here, salt and cold water’s what you need for blood stains.’ 

 

“Goody.” Billy had approached silently; he held out his hand with two spent gun casings sat on top of a handkerchief. “They’re silver.” He rolled them around to show Goodnight the whole shell including the small symbol etched into the base. “The same as Sam uses.”

 

“Mon Dieu.” Goody cursed quietly, running a hand through his greying hair: why was he putting their safety at risk for one girl? “Maybe Sam will be able to shed some light on this pétrin.”

 

-

_ “Never lose sight of your humanity. I cannot stop you seeking revenge, but don’t forget what it truly means to be human” _

 

Birds sang a sweet morning call as light bled through a gap in the curtains. Cassandra slowly opened her eyes staring up at the royal blue canopy. Lazily she rolled her head towards the window only to find the curtains of the bed had been drawn. She never pulled them herself: it was a hassle if she had to get out of bed quick and she liked being able to see her room in case of intruders. 

 

As she pushed herself up her head informed her loudly of its discomfort. 

 

“Argh… what on-” She touched her forehead, finding it wrapped with bandages. “What happened?” She sat in silence staring down at the covers trying to piece together her evening. “I...fell?” Something seemed wrong, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. 

 

Pulling the curtains aside she swung her legs out of the bed and stood up, but after only a few feet before she stumbled to her knees, the room spinning around her. Her head throbbed as though someone was banging a drum inside. Unable to stand enough to get herself back into bed Cassandra tried to pull herself up on the bed post but she kept getting so far and sinking back to her knees: the drums in her head just wouldn’t cease. 

 

-

‘It’s well past dawn; reckon she’s alright?’ Jack looked at Goodnight across the breakfast table with concern. 

  
  
  


Goodnight pushed his chair out, letting it screech across the wooden floor. “I’ll go check.” As he walked out of dining room he met Faraday yawning his way down the corridor. “Joshua.”

 

“Mornin’, Goody..” Faraday mumbled, avoiding Goodnight’s gaze, and scurried into the kitchen to help Jack with breakfast. 

 

The walk up the main hall’s stairs seemed harder than normal. It had barely been a week and already things had gone sour hopefully his precautions were working and Cassandra would have forgotten the whole ordeal. He would be lying if he wasn’t a little concerned, it was the first time he had accidentally hired a hunter to clean his home. 

  
  


His shoes clicked softly on the long red carpet runner that ran the centre of the corridor: the curtains in this part of the house were still closed so she had to be sleeping still. He rapped gently on the door. 

 

“Cassandra?” 

 

There was no response so he knocked again. “Cassandra? Petite?” The door creaked as he pushed it open slowly. “Bon Dieu!” Goodnight hurried into the room at the sight of her clinging to the bedpost. “Petite? Are you alright?” he asked kneeling down next to her.

 

“My head hurts,” she mumbled, leaning her head against the bed frame “What happened?” The way she looked at him filled him with guilt,

 

“You fell down the stairs. You hit your head hard…” 

 

She frowned, then shook her head. 

 

“No..I remember…”

 

Goody placed a hand on her back and carefully helped her up onto her feet. “Non, petite,’ he repeated softly. ‘You fell down the main stairs, Joshua had brought in half the outside with him last night and you slipped. Gave us quite the fright.” 

 

“But...I fell in the woods….there was a we… a wolf.” 

 

Goody helped her back into bed, lifting her legs up and pulling the covers back over her. ‘’You must have dreamed it. 

 

_ You fell down the main stairs, Joshua had brought in half the outside with him last night and you slipped. Gave us quite the fright.”  _  He repeated the words, hoping they would stick and everything could go back to how it was. “You need to rest. Don’t you worry about work -- I’ll bring you something to eat.” he smiled tucking her in. Her eyes were full of worry and concern. 

 

“Rest,” he repeated as he closed the door. Outside, he leaned against it. “Mon Dieu, what a mess.” Something was wrestling in her mind, something that could overpower his mind control. He would have to work on it as she slept and hope. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for sticking with it! Hopefully I'll have another update before Christmas!


	5. Anemone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Food is good for the soul,  
> twisted memories,  
> a past revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a little early but Merry Christmas! Thank you for reading!

 

“Thank you again, Mr Chisholm. I mean I know this is usually below your skill-” 

 

“Bandits and outlaws still need hunting.” Sam replied coolly, pocketing the coin the old sheriff set on the counter for him. “Just doing my job.” He turned and exited the sheriff’s office. Sam had been a bounty hunter for many years, working for the hunters guild which specialised in the supernatural, but he sometimes found himself hunting the odd bandit for old times’ sake.

 

The sun was high in the sky but dark clouds were rolling in. “Best get back before the rain,” he hummed walking with a quickened pace towards his ebony-coloured horse. “Come on, horse, let’s go.” He reached for the reins and then turned slowly back at the sound of footsteps behind him.  “Jack?” Sam could see the older man’s unease. 

 

“We have a slight problem.” Jack replied, more quietly than normal.

 

Sam frowned. 

 

“Bogue?” 

 

“No. Goodnight might have accidentally hired a hunter.” Faraday scoffed in protest and mumbled something under his breath.

 

“What?” Sam opened his mouth several times, trying to create a coherent sentence. “How, exactly!?”

 

“Well, she’s a nice young lady. He didn’t expect her to be a hunter.” Jack explained, clipping Faraday around the head when he tried to interrupt.

 

“ _ She _ ? You’re sure she’s with the order?”

 

“Carried bullets with the sigil on the bottom.” Jack looked at Sam hopefully. “We had a little incident with McCann too. Joshua antagonised the lad -again” -- he fired a glare at Faraday like a disappointed parent -- “and they scrapped in the house. The new maid shot McCann and chased him into the forest. Goodnight is working his magic to twist her memories. We don’t know what to do.” 

 

Sam’s shoulders slumped and  he raised both hands, one to remove his hat, the other to run across his close-cropped scalp in thought. Goodnight was too trusting just like Jack. “I’ll head back. You go to Red Harvest -- he’s by the creek with Rosemary. Keep them away: if she is with the hunters bringing more weres and a witch into the mix won’t help the situation. They might have more waiting.” 

 

“But shouldn’t we stick together?” Faraday asked. “Splitting up seems pretty stupid.”

 

“Now Sam. I don’t think the young miss is like that-” began Jack, but Sam wasn’t as foolish and naive as the other men. 

 

“Not all hunters are as understanding as I am. She could be bait to lure you all into a false sense of security.” Sam grabbed the reins, mounted his horse and looked down at Jack and Faraday. “Come to think of it, Emma and Matthew are in the area. Warn them about the hunter.” Sam headed off, leaving them behind.

  
  


“Well, you heard him,” shrugged Faraday, patting Jack’s shoulder. “Let's go.”

 

Jack hadn’t moved, he was staring off after Sam, his hands clenched. “Joshua, I need you to go tell Emma and Matthew that there's maybe hunters. Stay with Rosemary and Red Harvest.’

 

‘Where are you going?’

 

‘Back.’ Jack didn’t wait, just set off up to the house.

 

“Jack! Come on!” Faraday shouted helplessly after him.. 

 

-

 

The dark skies had rolled in, enough to make them resort to the use of candles in the middle of the afternoon. Goodnight descended into the kitchen where Vasquez stood in front of the stove. “Smells good.”

 

“Didn’t think you appreciated food.” Vasquez glanced up from the pot as Goodnight pulled out a chair at the table.

 

“You know I can eat small pieces but it has no nutritional value for me. Besides, I can’t cook anymore.”

 

“Or make coffee.” Vasquez chided playfully. “Always burnt.” 

 

“My taste buds aren’t what they used to be.” Goody chuckled. He watched Vasquez make a tray up with a hearty bowl of what looked like pork stew, setting a little bread on the side and a glass of water. “Who is that for?”

 

“For our guest. She needs to eat, no?” Vasquez set the tray down on the table 

 

Goodnight looked a little taken back. “You’re not scared of her?”

 

“Of the  _ chica _ ?” Vasquez shrugged. “Explains why she almost took my head off gardening other day.”

 

Goodnight’s mouth hung open. “She  _ what _ ?”

 

“I made her jump and she swung-” Vasquez mimicked her actions “- with a shovel. Almost took my head off. She’s got good reflexes.” 

 

Goodnight’s mouth still hung open, then he buried his face in his hands and dissolved into laughter. “Why didn’t you think to mention this incident?” 

Vasquez shrugged “She apologised. Ain’t the first time this has happened anyway.”

 

“not with a hunter it hasn’t.” Goodnight corrected tapping the table to further his point. 

 

“That why you’re so nervioso?” Goodnight grumbled in response “Your mind tricks will work and she’ll be on her way just like the rest of them.” 

 

Goodnight sighed: he wasn’t so sure. 

 

“ _ lástima.  _ She seemed nice.” Vasquez added as he held out the tray for Goodnight to take. “Don’t worry. It’ll work out. If not we have to dispose of another hunter.” 

 

“I pray it doesn’t come to that.” he replied slowly rising from his chair to accept the tray “she did seem like a nice girl.”

 

-

 

Cassandra couldn’t sleep. Everytime she closed her eyes her mind ran through so many different things, she couldn’t silence the turmoil in her head. In the end she propped herself up getting a worn leather book wound tight around with a belt from her nightstand. Some of its pages had curled and distorted from contact with the rain but otherwise it was well looked after and well read. Her fingers stroked the embossed design of their family crest on the cover and a small smile tugged at her lips as thoughts of happier times flooded her mind.

 

A knock at the door drew her attention. “Yes?” She moved the book under her pillow as Goodnight poked his head round the door.

“Ah petite, you’re up,” Goodnight smiled, balancing a tray with one arm as he closed the door behind him. “Brought you something to eat.” 

 

“I really don’t have an appetite Mr Robicheaux,” she protested, though no sooner had those words left her mouth than her stomach rumbled loudly. She hung her head in embarrassment,

 

Goodnight smiled. “Hungry?”

 

“Apparently.“ Cassandra she sighed as he handed her the tray “It smells wonderful.”

 

“Rough as Vasquez looks, he’s one hell of a cook,” Goodnight chuckled, watching her tuck straight into the stew. “Good?”

 

She nodded “Mmm. Really good.” The stew went down rather well, warming and settling her stomach which was a blessing. 

 

Goodnight glanced curiously around her room and she saw his eyes fall on the post of her bed and the silver locket that hung around it. “Something to remember your  chéri ?”

 

Cass set down her knife and fork quietly “No … no. Nothing like that.” She reached to unclip the locket, running a thumb over the engraved lid before opening it carefully. “My papa and my grandfather,” she explained, pointing to the two male figures in the locket. She held it out  for Goodnight to take but he shook his head.

“Looks expensive..silver?” She nodded, pulling back her hand again to cradle the locket protectively. “Your mother?” Goody questioned,

“We’re...not on good terms. Haven’t been for a long time.” She looked at the small pictures fondly. “I miss them..” she admitted, letting her shoulders slump.

“If things get tough you can always go home, petite.” Goody placed a hand on hers with a warm smile “Adventures are good an’ all, but sometimes there's no place like home.”

“Home..”  Cass repeated dreamily.

“There will always be a home waiting for you.” Why did his words feel so heavy and sweet, as though they were luring her to a part of her heart she craved most? “People waiting for you to come home.” She felt her eyes growing tired and her body numb. 

 

_ Papa…  _

 

Scenes of blood and fire flashed before her, screams and shouts echoing through her mind. 

 

“Papa.” She hunched forward holding her head in her hands as the pounding grew worse. 

 

Goodnight rested a hand on her shoulder squeezing it gently. 

 

“Bet your  père  misses you.” 

_ “Cassandra, stay back!”  _

 

Cass groaned as she cradled her head, Goodnight’s cloying sweet voice making the pain so much more unbearable. She just couldn’t tell what was the truth any more.

 

\--

 

Billy tossed and turned in his heavy satin covers, unable to sleep. Rolling onto this back he stared up at the canopy and listened to the sounds of the house: Vasquez was in the kitchen humming a song in a language he didn’t understand and Goody was chatting to with the maid. Last night had been quite the kerfuffle, as Goody would say, though truthfully Billy had an inkling about her nature from their first encounter. The gun was too big for simple self defense and she kept it by her bed: surely if she were inside it wouldn’t be needed. That meant she was wary, but not of them -- had she known about them before coming up? 

 

He slowly pushed himself up running a hand through his unruly bed hair. Grabbing a pair of trousers, a black waistcoat, shoes and tying his hair back before he slipped through the shadows appearing in the kitchen where Vasquez was cleaning up his mess. 

 

“Vasquez-”

Vasquez cursed loudly and dropped a plate. “ _ Billy _ ! Cuchillo.” He slammed his hands on Billy’s shoulders, trying to steady his breathing “Don’t creep up behind people.  _ Dios mio, _ you’re gonna kill me one of these days.”

“Sorry…” he mumbled. Goody was forever telling him to use doors. 

“What’s up?” Vasquez asked, kneeling to clear up the pieces of broken plate. “You’re never up this early. Worried about the hunter?”

“No.” Billy looked around the kitchen. “Jack’s herbs..does he have any chamomile?” 

 

Vasquez looked up at him curiously. “Can’t sleep?”

Billy shook his head again “For her.” 

Vasquez looked surprised but he nodded, stacking the broken plate on the counter “Wait a second. Pour some water in the kettle get it boiling.” He headed for the back door, and Billy poured some water into the black cast iron kettle, set it on the large stove and listened to the water slowly heat up. 

The back door opened and clicked shut again, and Vasquez held up the delicate white petalled flowers “why are you concerned?”

“Why aren’t you?” Billy asked in quick retaliation. 

“Explains why she’s got pretty quick reflexes.” Vasquez searched out one of Goodnight’s fancy cups with a saucer, warmed it with some hot water and tied the flowers along with a sprig of mint into little piece of cheese cloth. Once the water in the kettle was boiling he placed the bundle in the cup and poured boiling water over it, leaving the drink to brew a moment whilst he rummaged around for a large pot of golden honey 

“What are you doing?” Billy questioned,

“Ever tasted chamomile? It’s foul. This is will sweeten it.” Vasquez explained stirring in the golden liquid. 

 

“Thank you.” Billy nodded turning to leave only to have Vasquez snap his fingers loudly 

 

“not so fast cuchillo.” Vasquez held the cup out to him “I’m not taking it. Your idea, you take it.” Billy looked at the cup then back to Vasquez, who grinned. “No arguing, take it. Goody’s already up there.  ¡Ándale!, before it goes cold. ” 

 

Billy headed up to her room careful not to spill the tea and could hear Goody talking quietly as he opened the door: the maid – Cassandra – was sitting in bed, Goody beside her, whispering to her. He glanced up as Billy entered, his eyes shimmering gold -- he was still trying to twist her thoughts. 

“Billy, don’t linger by the doorway, son.” He turned back to Cassandra. “Ya’ll haven’t met.” 

 

-

 

The throbbing pain in Cass’ head suddenly calmed like the ocean after a storm; she blinked and slowly looked up. She hadn’t even heard the door open, but there in the doorway was a tall dark-haired man with fine features and a well groomed moustache, though his loose white shirt and black waistcoat were both very loosely buttoned up. Something nagged at her: had she met him before?

Frowning, she stared, trying to wrack her brain, then their eyes met and something in her clicked; she sensed again the delicate scent of parsley.

 

“Cassandra, this is Billy. Billy, Cassandra.” Goodnight introduced. Billy nodded at her. “What do you have there?”

 

“Tea.” He walked quietly over to the bed and handed her the cup and saucer. 

 

“Well, let me take this tray away and I’ll leave you two to get acquainted.” Goodnight smiled. “Then be sure to get some rest.”

 

“Thank you, Mr Robicheaux.” 

 

“Call me Goodnight.” he said with a nod of his head. Billy took Goodnight’s spot as he left the room with the cutlery rattling. They sat in an awkward silence as she sipped the tea shuddering from the taste. 

 

“No good?”

 

“Chamomile is always so nasty. The honey makes it a little better but still.” She looked up from the cup with a weary smile “Thank you.” 

 

“You’re welcome.” 

 

At times like this Cassandra wished she’d taken better tips from her mother about idle chatter. Silence was golden but awkward silence was uncomfortable. Curiously she carefully glanced in his direction, he was observing her room just as Goodnight had been. He had to be younger than Goodnight given his fine features, perhaps around the same age as Vasquez? She had many questions she wanted to ask but social situations were not her strong point and it would just sound like an interrogation. He had such an air of mystery swirling around him. 

 

_ If I blink I feel like he’ll vanish like a dream.  _

His dark eyes turned away from the small vanity table and back to her, 

 

_ don’t stare.  _ she cursed,

 

_ but his eyes..are stunning. Like the night sky  _  her attention quickly focused back on the tea lifting it to her lips.

 

Neither of them said anything until her cup was empty.  

 

“It should help prevent nightmares,” he stated quietly. 

 

“How did you know I get nightmares?” she asked with a frown as he leaned to take the cup from her. 

 

“We all do.” he replied calmly. He walked to the door barely making a sound on the wooden floor “Rest.” 

 

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Cassandra with even more questions and an overwhelming sense of uncertainty she couldn’t shake. She sighed loudly and flopped down amidst the cushions, reaching for the leather journal again and pulling into her bosom. 

 

“Papa, what do I do?” she mumbled, letting sleep wash over her. 

-

 

 

As the skies darkened thunder bellowed loudly as flashes of lightning illuminated Goodnight and his study. The pitter patter of rain danced across the window panes as he watched the weather turn. 

 

He was uneasy. Billy had assured him that she was sleeping and it would be alright but Goodnight could shake his worries. Vasquez was right, if it didn’t work they would simply dispose of her like any other preying hunter but that notion did not sit well with him.

 

“She’s young.” his shoulders slumped as the sound of footsteps were marching with unyielding speed towards his sanctuary. There was no knock on the door as it clicked open “Evening’ Sam.” Goodnight turned around smiling coyly as one soaked hunter entered his study. 

 

“A hunter?” were the first words out of his mouth. By the evident frown on his face Sam wasn’t please. “What in God’s name were you thinking?!”

 

“Now Sam just hear me out a second.” Goodnight gestured to a chair but Sam wasn’t budging “Sam she seemed like a normal girl. Sure she had a gun-”

 

“A gun?! and you didn’t question it!” 

 

“ J'ai fait” Goodnight huffed stubbornly “she said the roads were dangerous, which they are especially for a young lady.” 

 

“nothing else was odd?” Sam’s brow furrowed further, which seemed impossible. 

 

“Well no. Just a normal girl.” they glared at each other in a stalemate “Sam, please. Just try and-” the door was flung open as Jack stumbled in dripping all over the carpet  “Must everyone bring in the entire outdoors with them?”

 

“Jack I told you to stay with Red Harvest didn’t I?”

“I won’t let you hurt that poor girl. She’s done nothing wrong.” Jack argued. 

 

“Yet. She’s a hunter. That’s what we’re trained to do.” Sam scowled. “Hunters can’t be compassionate, if they are then they don’t last long in the guild or in life. It’s a fool notion.” Sam let out another angry sigh “I can’t believe you two! she’s a hunter!” Apparently Sam felt the need to remind them of Cassandra’s occupation. They were both painfully aware of the temperment of hunters, it was like bounty hunting but for non-humans, but they also upheld  _ justice  _  and offered protection from the creatures and beast of the world. 

 

“So are you.” Jack reminded “and yet here you are.”   
  
“That is a different story.” Sam snapped but his frown softened “Look. I’ll go talk to her and discuss it afterwards.” Goodnight looked at Jack with a hopeful smile. “What’s her name.”

 

“Cassandra. Cassandra Elwood.” Goodnight’s smile sunk when he noticed the return of the frown. “Sam?”

 

“Elwood...No relation to Malcolm Elwood…” he asked raising a hand to his mouth in thought.

 

“I wouldn’t know, we haven’t spoken much of her family. Why?”

 

“Explains why she’d be here..” Sam mumbled as he headed towards the door slowly,

 

“Sam! what do you mean?” Goodnight questioned almost shouting at him,

 

“He was hunter, he died. Killed by a werewolf..by Bogue.” the door clicked quietly behind him and a flash of lightning swallowing the room in a blinding light before leaving the two men in a deafening silence. 


	6. One of Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings delivered,  
> Allies found,  
> Secrets unfolded,  
> Advice ignored,

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First update of the new year -victory fanfare-  
> Huge thank you to Fontainebleau for all her help with proof reading and support!

Faraday couldn’t believe Jack: why did he need to save this hunter? He walked briskly through the town following the scent of the Cullens and located them at the general store. When he poked his head round the door Matthew spotted him first and waved before tapping Emma on the shoulder. Faraday exited the store and waited for them to finish up.

 

“Josh, good to see you” Matthew greeted him with a smile, Emma however was less than happy to see him. He probably angered her: again. Last time he had drank more than his fair share of whiskey and Emma found him in wolf form digging up her garden. Though he was certain that he had apologised for that.

 

“Why are you here?” she asked curtly, 

 

“Business first, as always,” Faraday joked, pushing away from the building “There's a hunter in Rose Creek.” He saw the colour drain out of their faces. This was to be expected both of them had had run ins with hunters before and the rumours were that witch hunters were known to be considerably more brutal than others but Emma wasn’t keen on speaking on the matter “I’m heading to warn Red Harvest. Sam advised you both to stay out of town until it’s blown over.”

 

“What happened?” Matthew question quietly looking around cautiously in case of prying ears. 

 

“Simply Goodnight hired a maid who turned out to be a hunter of all things. Some stuff happened with McCann-” 

 

“We will be returning home.” Emma stated, “I am not afraid of hunters. Besides it’s one hunter and if McCann is involved I doubt they’ll last long.” 

 

Matthew and Faraday shared a sigh “Em, love..perhaps-”

 

“No, Matthew. We are going home,” she repeated sternly and walked off leaving her husband no room to argue. 

 

“Keep us posted.” Matthew nodded at Faraday and ran after his wife “Em. Emma. Love!” 

 

Faraday shook his head scratching at his mousy blonde hair “What a goddamn mess.” he huffed kicking at the ground as he turned to head off into the woods, “at least she didn’t try and turn me into toad again.” he mused reminiscing on his early encounters with Emma and Matthew. For a short time they both had stayed at the mansion with them. Matthew had appeared naked as a newborn in the hall one stormy evening with Emma in his arms. Faraday knew Matthew from the town below but they hadn’t really conversed but from the minute they’d walked past each other they knew the secret they were both hiding. 

Goodnight had opened his heart and his home to another lost soul. Witch hunters and Matthew had foolishly intervened, witch hunters weren’t equipped to hunt anything generally bigger than themselves but most of the time they persecuted any female that they didn’t like the look of, so Matthew’s wolf form gave them quite a fright. 

 

And in turn Emma gave them: the occupants of the mansion, a fright. Faraday had tried to make her laugh, maybe make her feel a little more at ease but she was clearly in no mood for jokes and turned him into a toad until Goodnight and Jack could calm her. 

 

After a few weeks of staying the mansion, Emma agreed to Matthew’s offer to live with him in Rose Creek. The rest was history for them. They still visited the mansion on occasions and she still threatened to turn him into a toad when they argued.

 

-

 

The dense thickets of the forests were Red Harvest’s favourite place to be. It was quiet and as much as Faraday’s antics were amusing sometimes he just needed to be somewhere calmer. More often than not if he sensed there were people in the forest he would shift into his wolf form to avoid any form of human conversation. 

 

During a mishap a year or so prior he had encountered a witch by the name of Rosemary. She had used her power to restore him to health and when he visited her afterwards as thanks they grew to enjoy each other’s company. They often sat in one sided conversation, Rosemary talking about the strange potion requests, Red listening intently to her whilst he fletched some new arrows or bundled herbs for her. 

 

Today was one of those days. He was catching fish in the stream when his ears picked up the sound of footsteps in the distance. 

 

“Red! Red, you here?!” called a familiar voice, and moments later Faraday stumbled out of the trees “You could have answered,” he huffed. “The witch here too?”

 

“It’s Rose,” he corrected, climbing out of the stream and collecting his catch. “She’s at the cottage. What's wrong?”

 

“Goodnight hired a maid who turned out to be a hunter.”

 

“How..did he not know?” Red cocked his head as he tried to fathom how that could have even occurred. 

 

“Apparently the gun she had wasn’t a big enough give away,”Faraday shrugged. “Anyway, Sam said to stay here with Rose while he sorts the situation.” Red gestured for Faraday to follow as he headed off further into the woods. Faraday ambled behind him grumbling and complaining about the whole fiasco. “And Jack is too trusting just because it's a woman.” 

 

Red glanced over his shoulder quickly. “A woman?” He pushed a branch, aside only to let it swing back into Faraday’s face,

 

“Watch it!” Faraday snapped, rubbing his nose from the impact. “Hm. She doesn’t seem like hunter material. Pretty scrawny looking.” 

 

“But sounds like she gave you all a fright.” Red interjected with a mocking tone. “I’m sure Goodnight is dealing with it aptly.” 

 

“Should just kill her like the last hunter.” Faraday said curtly stopping suddenly when he noticed Red had turned to face him with a sombre expression, 

 

“You can’t just take someone’s life.” 

 

“They do ours all the time!” 

 

“Doesn’t make it right.” Red turned his back on Faraday again. “Did she try and kill you?” He questioned, Faraday mumbled a no in response “sounds like she's hunting someone else then.” They carried on walking in silence until the forest opened up into a small clearing where a quaint little cottage with a thatched roof sat amidst a garden of wild flowers. The door to the house opened and a tall woman with bright auburn hair emerged.

 

“I didn’t expect you back so soon -- and you’ve brought a stray,” she mocked.

 

Faraday was quick to bite back. “Listen, you old hag!”

 

Red sighed: it always ended up like this. “Rose, I’m going back to Goody’s -- there’s a little hunter issue.”

 

“A Hunter again?”

 

“It’s a little different than before. Goody hired her as a maid” Faraday explained, bored from repeating the same information. 

 

“..A woman?” she hummed curiously “I didn’t know they allowed that.” 

 

“Well apparently this one's the exception.” Faraday huffed.

 

“Rose, stay here. I’ll be back in the morning with news.” Red saw the frown on her face,

 

“You expect me to stay here alone? With hunters around?” she asked coldly, hands on her hips. Red took her hands gently and offered a reassuring smile.

 

“You’re strong, so strong. Your magic will keep anything dangerous at bay. If it’s serious I’ll come back straight away.”

 

“Fine. Just be careful.” Rose added sternly, though her cold facade faded as Red rested his forehead against hers.

 

“I’ll be back,” he smiled, planting a delicate kiss on her cheek. “Be safe.”

 

“If you two are finished being revolting... ” Faraday rolled his eyes and walked off mumbling to himself. 

 

-

 

“It can’t be his kid...” Sam walked the long corridor with a quick unyielding pace, his boots muffled by the carpet runner centering most of the corridors. How could they be so foolish? He expected better from Goodnight – after all, he’d lived far longer than any of them. 

 

Sam stopped in front of a door and knocked loudly, but heard no answer. He knocked again, then frowning he reached for the handle and felt a cold draft slipping around the door. “Shit.”

 

He pushed the door open to find the room unoccupied, the curtains fluttering around an open window. She had obviously left in a hurry, her belongings still scattered. On the pillow was a leather bound book with a crest on the front cover; he picked it up and unfastened the buckle around it, the pages springing open from their confines. 

 

He skimmed them quickly: short diary entries coupled with various creature records, the first entry from at least ten years ago was signed off as Malcolm.  _ I hand this to you, my precious daughter, no doubt you’ll make me proud: Never lose sight of yourself or our motto.  _

 

Sam closed the book and tossed it back onto the bed, then went over to close the window. There were boot prints on the sill. “Foolhardiness runs in the family, it seems,” he sighed, pulling the window shut. “Revenge never ends well.” he murmured, dragging  tired hand over his face. “Won’t get through the night at this rate.” 

 

Pushing away from the window Sam headed out of the room and walked with haste back towards the main hall where Jack and Goody were waiting for him. 

 

“How did it go?” Jack asked. Sam avoided his hopeful gaze. “Sam?”

 

“If you’re looking for that hunter she’s gone into the forest. Armed to the teeth.” The trio peered down the large staircase to see Faraday naked and dripping wet in the hall. “Ain’t gonna help, McCann’ll kill her.”

 

“You let her go?!” Goody demanded “and where are your clothes?”

 

“Shifted and ran here..safety in numbers ‘case there’s more.” Joshua had no apparent tolerance for the maid and his cold expression made it even more so. “What does it matter? One less hunter,” he snarled. Then his haughty attitude was stunted as a fist knocked him to the floor. 

 

Vasquez loomed over him his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles had turned white. “Billy’s gone ahead, he announced, turning his gaze towards them at the top of the stairs “We’ll bring her back. She’s not a bad soul...I can tell. She’s just lost.” 

 

He headed towards the door, shrugging off his shirt, trousers and shoes to leave them in a heap as he ran out into the driving rain. A howl echoed through the hall as Vasquez shifted in the darkness and vanished.

 

“As are we all.” Jack mumbled hurrying down the stairs. “We’ll be back, Goodnight.” Jack ran out of the house on Vasquez’ heels. 

 

Sam looked at Goodnight, his hands clutched at his coat with worry. Goodnight had seen many years but it seemed to only further his empathy and love for humans. He set a hand on the older man’s shoulder and tried to offer him a comforting smile. “It’ll be alright, Jack won’t let her die.” 

 

Another howl rang out from the darkness. “Sounds like Red just caught up with them..does no one heed my warnings?” Sam looked down at Faraday who hadn’t moved from his spot on the floor, he was sulking something fierce. “Faraday, go wait in the parlour -- get the fire going if it ain’t already,” he ordered. “put some clothes on first!” he added quickly.

 

“I should go help-” Goodnight whispered, his body quivering with concern. 

 

_ That’s so like him. To get attached so quickly _ . “You should wait for them here, Goody. Having someone waiting for her might get her to open up. After all, you don’t want her to leave.” 

 

Goody looked at him in shock, his cold blue eyes holding such sadness. “She’s got nowhere to go, Sam.. this place draws wayward souls. She’s supposed to be here, like all of you.” 

 

Sam smiled weakly. “That’s so like you, Goody.” 


	7. Dance of the curse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paths walked alone,  
> A labyrinth of grief,  
> Battles fought,  
> Paths intertwined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An update!!! Thank you for sticking with it!

 

 

_ A gentle fire crackled softly as it danced.  _

 

_ “There is no such thing as forever. Everything ends sooner or later. Just as it should.“ _

 

_ “But you’ll be with me forever right?” Cassandra asked, looking up at her father as he turned the page of a worn leather journal. His smile was gentle and comforting as he kissed the top of her head tenderly. _

 

_ “One day I’ll die as it is dictated by God but I’ll be with you in your heart forever.” _

 

_ “What about Vampires? You said they live forever.” _

 

_ His smile faded a little and he looked towards the window and the moon that lit up the night sky.  _

_ “Unfortunate souls. Turned from the light of God against their will. Most lose their humanity due to isolation and the curse but on the rare occasion there is one that requires our help. A light in the darkness. They might never walk in the sun again but we can be there to remind them they’re not alone.” _

_ “That’s sad. To be alone forever.”  _

 

*

 

Cassandra woke to a dark room and the gentle patter of rain against the windowpane. She rolled over and watched the rain for a while before slowly sitting up. The cold of the room made her shudder but she made no move to curl back under the warm covers. Slowly she threw back the covers and swung her legs out of the bed. The rest had done her good, the lightheadedness had faded but the nausea lingered still. The fog rolling through her memories had started to fade. Stairs? no she hadn’t fallen down the stairs. The sound of the rain helped clear her mind. The tall broad intimidating figure of a werewolf was not so easily forgotten. Though for a moment she had almost believed those hazy memories but when Goodnight mentioned going home to her father: the one thing she wanted so dearly but knew it could never be, the fog had thinned and everything started to make a little more sense. 

  
  


She moved to unravel the bandages from around her forehead, cringing as she touched at the wound near her hairline; it had stopped bleeding but it still stung. The coldness of the room spurred her to get moving, and opening the wardrobe she grabbed her satchel from the bottom of it, pulling out a worn pair of black trousers, a leather waistcoat and a thick off-white shirt faded from many washes. With the trousers tucked into her boots, the buckles of the waistcoat pulled tight and her hair braided back to keep it out the way, she set to gearing up her belt with a smaller revolver, extra silver bullets and a hunting knife with a sleek silver blade. Pulling on a pair of thick leather gloves she lifted the strap of her rifle over her head and settled it against her back. 

 

She made the bed and set the journal on top with one final entry written in the pages. “This is it...” she mumbled, taking her locket from the bedpost and holding it tightly before clipping it around her neck and tucking it safely under her shirt. 

“Dad..wait for me..” 

 

Cassandra headed over to the window, unlatched the clasp and pushed the window open, letting the cold night air rush into her room. There were several trees around the house which were close enough for her to jump to – she couldn’t very well walk through the house this armed. Not that it mattered anymore:  _ when out on a hunt always assume you might not come back.  _

 

The bitter wind sent shivers running through her body and she glanced back at the coat hanging near the door, then shook her head. 

“It’ll just weigh me down.” 

 

She climbed onto the windowsill and took a deep breath, then made the leap into darkness, missing her initial grab on the tree and slipping chest first into the branch below.

 

“Hng...good start,” she groaned, and carefully scrambled down the rest of the tree dropping down with a light thud. Lifting the rifle off her back she held it firmly in both hands as she left the shelter of the tree and ventured out into the driving rain.

A few footsteps beyond the creaking iron gate she stopped to look back at the mansion, just visible in the distance. It had barely been a week but that house had been so welcoming – 

  
  


_ I wish I could have stayed just a little longer.  _

She knew that even if she came back alive, staying wasn’t an option. They knew and yet..

_ Why did they help me? They could have left me.. but he..they..were so kind to me still.. _

 

“It would have been nice to get to know him better-” she clutched her rifle tightly shaking her head “No. There’s no room for anything else. My job and my revenge..that’s it..”she mumbled.  Turning her back on the mansion Cassandra headed into the dark abyss of the forest, eyes darting around to find the trail the werewolf had left. There on a tree were huge tears in the trunk: she trailed her fingers across them, grimacing  at the size of the marks. It always made her wonder how she’d survived that night.

 

A loud crack sounded behind her, she whirled round, gun up and loaded. 

By a tree in the shadows was a man, one she’d seen very briefly, but she recalled the name Jack had hollered at him:  _ Joshua. _ He wasn’t fazed by the rain even if he was in nothing but his bare skin. His eyes lit up as lighting illuminated the area and she recognised what he was. Carrying a rifle that almost matched her in height and armed to the teeth, there was no excuse she could give to him. He knew what she was. Something in her subconscious told her the others probably knew too. 

She lowered her gun and bowed her head. 

 

“I am sorry.” and with that she turned and followed the tracks deeper into the forest. 

 

It was becoming more apparent that this forest was going to be her resting place. If this Were didn’t kill her, there were others that might and she was severely outnumbered. Their precautions hadn’t worked and if they thought she was endangering them, they could easily get rid of her. No matter how kind they were, survival was at the forefront of their mind.

 

There would be no sneaking up on this wolf, her boots splashed loudly in the puddling sloppy mud and the air around her grew heavy. She felt as if eyes were watching her from the shadows. A hunter stalking its prey. She held up her rifle and advanced cautiously.

 

“What's this? A lone hunter?” The voice came out of nowhere, and she whirled round, trying to get visual on her predator. “Not a wise move.” Thunder rumbled over the treetops, lightning following on its heels, and as its light expelled the darkness for a brief moment, a tall Were loomed over her. 

 

In a panic Cassandra raised her gun and fired it, just skimming the beast’s head. “Easy now,” it mocked, “you’ll hurt someone.” 

 

She stepped backwards, trying to put distance between them, but tripped over an exposed root, her shot firing wildly into the sky. In her moment of weakness the werewolf lunged at her, and with no time to aim she snatched out the silver blade and swung it straight across its snout. 

 

The were reared back, howling in pain, but Cass’s 

heart was pounding against her chest and her hand shaking in terror. Any advantage she might have had was lost. 

 

Sheathing the dagger she quickly stumbled to her feet as the were rounded on her with blood pouring down its face. 

 

“That hurt you bitch.” 

 

She ran, boots sliding frantically in the mud. 

 

_ I need to hide..Get an advantage…just one good sh- _

 

Her thoughts were interrupted abruptly by the sound of branches snapping around her; heart racing, she whirled round but too late –  the were lunged from the shadows and tackled her into a tree. All the air left her lungs as she hit the wet ground. 

 

“Shouldn’t be playing hunter, little girl,” it snarled, watching as she staggered to her feet, “but then its more fun for me when you run.” 

Cassandra tried desperately to calm her nerves.  She should have known better than to challenge a werewolf head on like this - they were taller, stronger, faster and could tear a man to pieces like paper. 

_ I just want it to end. _

Her scars would never heal and revenge wouldn’t bring her dear father back but if she could find and kill Bogue she’d feel a little better. This Were had the brand of one of Bogue’s higher ranked wolves which meant he could take or give her the location of that weasel of a wolf. It would be over. She could live without being consumed by her grief and anger. Not that she knew what she would do after Bogue was killed but she’d cross that bridge when it came to it.

 

She had to change the tide. 

 

Keeping her gun trained she reached for a small tube at her belt and threw it towards the beast. With a well aimed shot she hit the tube and quickly shielded her eyes as the reaction sparked with its contents. A blinding flash went off in the wolf’s face and a bang louder than the thunder blasted through the trees moments after. Its roar was the signal for her to move. As she ran from her spot to put some distance between them the dust started to settle and she saw the were rolling around on the ground rubbing its eyes. 

 

Gun raised, trained on the beast, all she had to do was pull the trigger and she’d live to fight another day. 

 

_ They have families and friends just like we do. What right do we have to take that away? We hunt the ones who have wronged, the ones who have bounties. They might look like beasts but they still have their humanity.  _

 

The rain settled the dust caused by the explosion quicker than normal. She didn’t know this Were, maybe he’d been a friend of Joshua’s and they’d had a fight? But he did work for Bogue that much she did know from the brand. 

 

_ Bogue killed him….this isn’t Bogue...but..he wasn’t responsible for that night..but he’ll know where to find Bogue but...is this is right thing to do? _

  
  


She lowered her rifle again and raised her face to the clouds, letting the rain run down her cheeks: what a disgrace she was. She’d never be able to face her father like this. 

 

Claws wrapped around her throat and lifted her effortlessly from the ground, her rifle slipping out of her grasp. She stared into the were’s hungry yellow eyes as it snarled, “You’re dead,” its foul breath filling her nose as its claws tightened around her neck. “Not so confident now,” he laughed. digging his free hand into her shoulder. “Don’t worry. It’ll hurt,” it mocked, pushing its claws in deeper. 

 

Cassandra writhed in pain, knowing that this was what her father must have felt – if only she could have saved him. 

 

The were suddenly stopped his assault, sniffing the air cautiously. “Whose-” he began, but was cut off by the shadows which sprang forth from the darkness as deadly whips before twisting into the form of a man which came between him and his prey, causing him to drop her suddenly. 

 

“Oh, Chisolm let his pets out, did he?” the wolf growled, backing off a moment. 

 

Cassandra blinked, trying to focus in the darkness. 

 

“Billy?” she murmured, slowly pushing herself onto her knees. 

 

“Leave, McCann,” Billy ordered, and the shadows around him swirled into knives which he grasped, advancing on the towering Were with no hint of fear. She watched breathlessly as this quiet man made a werewolf far more imposing than himself back away.

 

“What do you care? She's just a hunter!” McCann backed up a little more when Billy lunged forward, blades raised. Billy was quick and silent, barely making any noise on the mud. The wolf kept its claws up to parry Billy’s blades though Billy was much quicker. 

 

Cassandra scrambled towards her rifle which lay a few feet away,: she could hear wolves howling on the wind. McCann’s friends? 

 

Out of the shadows came a wolf black as ebony with crimson eyes which shifted into a tall werewolf standing a good foot above McCann, its claws as black as its fur. Its blood curdling howl made Cassandra jump, but it didn’t pay her any heed, just barrelled into McCann, raising its giant paws and bringing them down mercilessly. 

 

It was as though the devil himself had stepped from the darkness: 

her hands shook, unable to lift the gun any higher and let it fall to the ground. 

 

Billy and the other were kept this McCann on its paws, but it slipped from their grasp and snarled, saliva dripping from its mouth as it stepped back, claws bared. 

 

“What's the matter? Your master said you can’t finish me off?” McCann mocked even though he was clearly at a disadvantage. “Just give me that bitch and we’ll call it evens.” 

 

“Back off,” the black were growled, raising itself to its full height to further intimidate him. Another wolf appeared, and McCann retreated a little further, his yellow eyes flicking between his opponents and the new wolf, which was a  reddish colour with soft amber eyes. it didn’t advance into the clearing but stood vigilantly on the exposed root of a tree. 

 

“This ain’t over,” McCann warned, only to have the black wolf lunge and swing for him, making him turn and flee with his tail between his legs. Cassandra tensed as the wolf turned to look at her, but it groaned loudly as it shrank in size and returned to its human form, one she was familiar with: Vasquez. He ran over to her, ignoring the rain and mud. 

 

“You alright?” he asked, kneeling down to her completely oblivious to his lack of clothing and bared all. Cassandra nodded and turned her head away, unsure where to look. 

 

“Jack’s on his way,” said another voice, not Billy’s, and glancing up Cassandra found herself running out of places to look;  this other man was not as tall as Vasquez, but would still tower over her and unlike Vasquez he was not covered in hair. 

 

“Good lord!” Jack’s high voice echoed through the rain as he practically shoved Vasquez out the way and embraced her, shielding her view. “Red Harvest, Vasquez, both of you into the house now! Clothes, for goodness sake!” 

 

“Oh  _ mierda,  _ sorry chica.” Cassandra could just see over Jack’s shoulder as both bare bottomed men transformed themselves into wolves and ran off into the forests. 

 

Jack turned his gaze back to her and his eyes full of worry. 

 

“Are you hurt? Come on let's get you back.” Cass made no effort to move, everything finally catching up with her. She’d almost died … again. 

 

_ Cassandra! Are you hurt?! _

 

“Cassandra?” Jack reached to move some hair that was stuck to her face with rain and blood “It’s over now. We’ll get you cleaned up.”

 

_ If you’re hurt, you can cry. Even strong people have to cry, it reminds us we’re still human.  _

 

Her lips quivered, and as her body trembled tears flooded her eyes to mix with the rain already running down her face. 

 

Jack placed a hand on her uninjured shoulder and offered her a reassuring smile. 

 

“It’s alright, let it all out.” He pulled her into a warm embrace despite the fact they were both soaked to the bone, and to be held so gently brought Cassandra to her breaking point. Gingerly she reached with her good hand and clutched the side of the large man’s vest and let her emotions run wild. 

 

Jack held her close and rested a hand on her head. “It’s alright,” he repeated, waiting patiently until she could cry no longer. 

 

“I’m such a disgrace to my pa...” she mumbled, staring at her hands covered in blood as Jack slowly tugged her to her feet.

 

“Now I’m sure that ain’t true. Come on, before we catch our death out here.” He put a hand on her back and ushered her to move. “Billy, son, come along,” he called over his shoulder. Cassandra turned back but there was no one behind them. “He must have gone ahead.” 

  
  
  


The sight of the large manor house looming before her made her sick to her stomach. 

 

They knew what she was. 

She knew what they were. 

What were they going to do? 

 

Best case scenario they let her go. 

Worst case she would be meeting her father sooner than she’d expected. 

 

But then they had saved her…

 

“Cassandra?” She stopped walking, so lost in her thoughts she hadn’t even noticed they’d reached the house. Jack stood in the warm candle light flooding out from the front entrance into the darkness. 

 

She didn’t deserve to enter this place again.  She’d lied to everyone – but there were things to be explained. She took a deep breath and walked past Jack, who shut the door behind her, closing out the cold unfeeling weather . 

 


	8. Where is the truth?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nerves fraught,  
> Warm words,  
> Truth told,  
> A new home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to fontainebleau again for all her help!  
> An update finally! sorry for the delay.

Goodnight paced the parlour impatiently, listening to the rain. Was it getting heavier? At the sound of the front door he slipped through the shadows, startling Vasquez and Red Harvest, shivering and shaking off the rain in the hall.

 

“Geez, what is with you two scaring people?” Vasquez chuckled, scratching his hairy chest. “Jack is with her, they’ll be on their way back in a moment.”

 

“Is she hurt?” Goodnight looked quickly between them. ‘We heard gunfire.’ Vasquez stopped chuckling and shot a look at Red.

 

“She’ll be alright,” Red replied firmly. “We need to change or Jack will be angry.” 

 

“Yes, yes, off you both go.” Goody returned to Sam and Joshua in the parlour. “Vasquez and Red Harvest are back,” he explained, walking back over to the large window. “They said Jack is bringing her back.”

 

“Told you they had it under control,” declared Sam confidently, though he had seemed as nervous as Goodnight.  

 

“What are you even going to do?” Faraday asked from where he was sprawled out across the sofa. “Your mind games didn’t work. Killing her would be-”

 

“I will not kill her!” Goodnight snapped, whirling round to glare at him, “and just what would you suggest?” Faraday’s flippant attitude was starting to grate on his nerves. 

 

Faraday pushed himself up, swinging his legs off the sofa. “Like I said, killing her would be easier but since you and Jack have practically adopted her I doubt that’s going to happen.”

 

“Sending her away would be best but we’d have to be certain she could be trusted,” Sam interrupted. “Nice as you say she is, she is still sworn to the guild and could quite easily turn you in.” 

 

“She wouldn’t,” Goodnight said confidently. “She wouldn’t,” he repeated, turning back to the window, “she’s a good girl. I know she wouldn’t do us harm.” 

 

Faraday hummed sceptically but Sam set a hand on Goody’s shoulder. “Ignore him. If you go get some bandages I’ll sort some hot water out. And try to calm down -- Jack seems to be a better mediator than both of us in times like this.” Sam turned back to Faraday and pointed at him then the floor. “You, stay!”

 

“I’m not a dog, Sam!” he barked back.

 

“Still a canine!” Sam retorted, closing the door on Faraday’s colourful reply. 

 

They headed down to the kitchen together where Goodnight rummaged about for the bandages while Sam set to boiling water in the large kettle. Finding the bandages in a wooden box near the backdoor, Goody carried it over to the table to make sure that Faraday hadn’t used it as a storage box for his dirty socks again. As he hurried to make a little pile to take to Cassandra one roll slipped out of his grasp, and reaching to grab it he found a shadowy figure looming next to the table. He jumped away from the table with a yell, knocking the crate clean off the counter.

 

“Mon Dieu! Billy! Qu'est-ce que je t'ai dit?! Des portes! Doors! Use doors!” Goodnight cursed, moving to pick up the fallen items. 

“Sorry.” Billy mumbled,

 

“Ain’t like you to let Billy sneak up on you like that,” teased Sam, “you need to calm down. If it were serious do you think Jack would send everyone back first?” Goody opened his mouth to reply but he knew Sam had to be right. 

 

Goodnight set the crate back onto the table and carried on piling up bandages. “What do you have there?” he asked, nodding at the bundle Billy was carrying. 

 

“Towels.” He set down several towels; Goody squinted as he laid a black quilted housecoat with a burgundy paisley trim on top of the pile. “She’ll be cold.” Billy stated, ignoring his skeptical stare.

 

“Isn’t that the dressing gown I bought you?”

 

“Yes. I don’t use it.”

 

“Oui, I’m aware. I’ve never seen you wear it.”

 

“It’s heavy,” Billy replied

 

“I thought if I bought you a black one you might wear it. It’s cold-”

 

“I don’t feel the cold, Goody.” 

 

Goodnight let out a tired sigh “Mighty gracious of you to lend our guest your clothes.” 

 

He raised an eyebrow - Billy was being strangely attentive of late – but all Billy said was, ‘They’re back,’ before slipping away into the darkness. 

 

“Come on.” Sam patted him on the shoulder. “This is no time to be nervous,.”

 

-

 

Jack ushered Cassandra gently up to her room, though she seemed reluctant to move away from the main hall. “We need to get you cleaned up first, then we’ll talk,” he soothed, but she offered nothing more than a nod. “There, wait there and I’ll get some hot water.” As he exited the room he gave her one last look: she was visibly shivering and seemed close to tears again. 

 

“Jack,” came a voice from behind him.

 

“Goodnight, Sam.” He glanced around to find them armed with hot water and bandages. “Ah, just the thing. Didn’t know you could read minds.” He chuckled but that didn’t bring a smile to Goodnight’s face.

 

“How is she?” he asked quietly, looking past him to the closed door.

 

“Her wounds don’t seem to be too severe. I think it may be something deeper that’s troubling her but hopefully we can work it all out.” 

 

Jack moved to open the door, knocking first and listening for a reply; when none came he cautiously pushed the door open. “Cassandra?” He peered round the door and to his relief saw her sitting on the edge of the bed staring at her hands. 

 

He took turned back to the others to take the towels and bowl from them. “We’ll be down soon, don’t worry.” Goody nodded and tried to keep sight of Cassandra as Jack closed the door. 

 

“It seems Goodnight and Sam already had things prepared for us.” He set the bowl down on the bedside table and handed her one of the towels. “You’ll catch cold if you don’t dry off.” Cass made no effort to take the towel so he laid it over her head with a playful smile. “How’s your shoulder?” 

 

At that she hunched a little. “I’ve had worse.,.it’ll be fine,” she mumbled, eyes still fixed on her hands.

 

“Let me take a look at it, we’ll get it treated so you can put some dry clothes on.” Again she quietly responded, starting to unbutton her shirt. Jack cleared his throat and focused on soaking a cloth in the hot water. 

 

Underneath, the cream camisole she was wearing was mostly stained red now; Cass tied her hair back loosely. “This will sting,” he warned, wringing out the rag and moving to wipe at the wound. Cass hissed in pain and her body tensed but she sat still as he tended to her. “I wish the boys were like you, they cause such a fuss when I try and clean their wounds. Shouldn’t get into so many fights, I keep telling them.” Jack rambled taking hold of her left arm carefully to wipe up the trailing blood. 

 

“Oh my…” he gasped faintly as the blood revealed two large scars on her arm and another creeping from under the thick strap of her camisole. His heart was breaking: what sort of life had she lived to earn such awful wounds? As he cleaned and bound her wounds, his eyes kept picking up on other scars, smaller but painful nonetheless. 

 

“There we go. All fixed,” he smiled, as he tied the last bandage around her shoulder. “Get into some dry clothes and we’ll go see the others.” Jack noticed the thick quilted robe under the other towel he hadn’t used and set it beside her on the bed. “Seems Goodnight brought you something to keep warm, this big old house gets quite chilly.”

 

“Thank you...I don’t deserve your kindness,” she said softly, touching at the bandages. 

 

The words shocked him. “Nonsense. Now get changed. I’ll be outside.” 

 

“To make sure I don’t run?”

 

“To make sure you don’t pass out, dear.” He stroked her hair gently. “You lost a lot of blood.” Jack gave her one last reassuring smile and walked over to the door.

 

“Mr. Horne...”

 

He turned back to see her holding out the remaining towel. “You should dry off too...it might take me time to change so you should get warm as well..” she suggested, glancing up at him quickly before casting her eyes back to the floor.

 

“You’re right, I should,’ he beamed, touched by her gesture. ‘I’ll be back very shortly. Thank you,”  

 

-

 

Cassandra watched the door close behind Jack, leaving her with the cold silence of the room and the rain still tapping away at the windowpane. Her adrenaline was running out and the consequences of her actions catching up with her: everything hurt. She gathered a change of clothes from the small chest of drawers, cursing under her breath as she struggled to change her camisole -- her shoulder just didn’t want to cooperate. Eventually she mastered it, pulling on a shirt and a dry skirt, though even in dry clothes she shivered from the cold that wouldn’t leave her bones.

From the corner of her eye she spotted the quilted housecoat laid upon her bed. “It would be rude to scorn his gesture,”  She mumbled, running a hand across to appreciate the soft fabric before picking it up. “It’s heavy,” she hummed in surprise and slipped her arms into it; when she shrugged it up and tied it shut with the burgundy tie, it just touched the floor. “God, I am short.” she sighed; housecoats usually grazed the ankle.

She reached to her neck to take off her locket, but to her dismay it wasn’t there. “Was it in my waistcoat?” She knelt to rummage through her discarded clothes frantically “No. Where is it?” A sharp knock at the door made her jump.  _ Jack.  _

 

_ I’ll have to go look for it later. I have other things to worry about now... But.. _ She rose to her feet and looked at the window.  _ In this rain I’ll never find it _ . There was another knock and she headed towards the door... 

 

“I’m ready.” To her surprise she saw Billy standing in the dimly-lit corridor, not Jack. “Billy?”. As he glanced up through his dark hair his eyes seemed to glow gold in the lamplight, a sight which unsettled her: she’d seen those golden eyes before, but not from him.

 

“How do you feel?” he asked quietly, not moving from his spot on the other side of the corridor. 

 

She instinctively touched her throat, thankfully the claw marks were not deep enough to scar. “I’ve had worse.“ She laughed flatly, looking him over slowly: he wasn’t a werewolf, she could tell, and she was having inklings to his true nature though it seemed rude to ask such a thing “..Billy..” - he glanced up at the mention of his name “-Thank you.” He hummed a response. “You didn’t have to save me-”

 

“I wanted to.” 

 

“Oh..I see-” He had changed into dry clothes but his lack of a housecoat made her feel cold. “Aren’t you cold?” she asked, trying to make conversation, he’d plainly come to her for some reason but he was still strangely difficult to talk to.

 

He shook his head, the motion scattering a few remaining beads of water from his hair, and pointed to the jacket she was wearing. “Looks better on you.”

 

“I’m sorry! I didn’t know it was yours. Jack must have picked it up by mistake-” She tugged at the belt to take it off.

 

“I don't get cold,” he stated, looking away from her. “Keep it.” 

 

“Thank you,” Cass replied quietly, retying the housecoat. She took a few steps closer to him “How can you not get cold? This place is freezing on a night.” Billy stayed silent even as she reached to touch his hand. “Jesus! your hands are like ice!” Cassandra grabbed his hand with both of hers -- he was so cold, and she stopped in her tracks as her fingers traced his wrist. 

 

_ His..pulse..he- He’s… _

 

Billy could probably feel her own pulse racing rapidly as she cautiously looked up at him. He stared down at her, his eyes shimmering gold, seeming to radiate their own soft glow. She didn’t know what to say or do: it felt as though he was staring right into her soul. Neither of them moved.

 

_ A vampire… _

 

“Cassandra! Sorry, dear, I took forever to change.” Jack’s voice startled her as she tore her gaze away from Billy’s, and she felt Billy’s hand leave her own as he faded into the shadows leaving her speechless and a little bewildered. “Was that Billy? Is everything alright?”

 

She nodded quickly. “He- he just came to see how I was” she mumbled, fiddling with the tie of the coat. “No wonder he’s so quiet when he can vanish like that.” 

 

Jack looked shocked. “You know?” he asked cautiously. 

 

“We should go, they’re probably wondering where we are,” she said, avoiding his question.

 

-

 

Sam sat scratching his chin as he watched Goody run his thumbs over each other, his leg bouncing with nerves. He couldn’t blame him: this was quite the predicament. A knock at the door made Goodnight jolt and Sam stopped as he rose from the chair to pat Goody’s shoulder. Jack popped his head in and Sam gave a nod. “Come on in.” 

 

Cassandra appeared beside the rotund man. She didn’t seem to be the confident hunter he’d heard rumours about -- though the exact words that were usually paired with her were: that obnoxious and foolish brat of Malcolm’s. 

 

She stood in front of the arm chair left vacant for her. Sam stood by Goodnight’s side, Billy ghosting behind them. Vasquez sat beside Jack on the sofa, trying to give her a smile, Red was settled comfortably in front of the fire and Faraday was leaning on the back of the sofa, back turned, but watching over his shoulder. 

 

Cass stood quietly before the seven of them, her head lowered and hands loosely clasped, ready to be judged. Sam squeezed Goodnight’s shoulder and took charge. “How much of what you said was a lie?” he asked sternly.

 

For the first time since she had entered the room she looked up. “I never spoke a lie,” she replied firmly. “Everything I said was true.” 

 

“That’s a lie!” Faraday snapped, whirling round to point angrily at her. “You never said you were a hunter!” 

 

“Nobody asked.” she replied curtly.

 

“You said you were a maid!” he argued.

 

“I applied for the job of a maid. There was nothing about previous experience needed on the application, but Mr Robicheaux asked if I had some knowledge and I have. I have had to work for room and board quite a few times before. So it was no lie.” 

 

“Faraday, stop,” Sam warned before Faraday could further the argument. “I thought Malcolm would have taught you better than to chase a were into its lair.” He saw Cassandra tense and look up at him. 

 

“You knew my father?” she asked slowly. It seemed even the mention of him was still a sore subject even though Malcolm had died almost eleven years ago now .

 

“I met him a few times. I didn’t know him well, though well enough to know he was a kind but overly optimistic fool-” 

 

Cassandra barely let him finish his sentence. “My father was not foolish!” she snapped, hands balling into fists, “he was a good man! We only hu-”

 

“Only hunted those with bounties or who had clearly caused a problem,” Sam interrupted.

 

“What's wrong with that?!” she demanded, Jack was looking at him with pleading eyes, begging him to stop.

 

“A compassionate hunter is a contradiction in terms,” Sam retorted calmly, “and that’s why he was killed.”

 

“No!” Cass jolted forward suddenly, puting Faraday on alert, claws bared.  “He was killed by Bogue! That’s why I’m here.”

 

“Then you’re in the wrong place,” Sam informed her flatly. “Bogue hasn’t been in the area for years.” 

 

“He soon will be,” she stated, fixing Sam with a serious stare. “I’ve tracked him long enough.” 

 

“So why haven’t you killed him yet?” Faraday taunted. 

 

“Every time I manage to get close to the town he’s in, I’m ordered to a new area by the guild. I can’t disrespect my father’s legacy. We still serve the guild and I still have to answer to them,” she explained. “But this time-”

 

“They don’t know you’re here, do they?” Sam asked, watching her look down at her feet.

 

Cass shook her head. “As far as they’re concerned I’m travelling with my grandfather to Austria to visit old friends and renegotiate their aid to the guild,” she replied, the line coming out as if rehearsed. 

 

“Old friends in Austria.. I can think of a few.” Sam hummed thoughtfully. “They don’t take kindly to humans, let alone hunters.” 

 

“ Countess Mircalla Karnstein -- but we are getting off topic.” She looked up at Sam with a burning resolve in her eyes “Bogue will soon be here. The records say he has a house here and all the towns he’s resided in have shown a sudden increase of dire wolves and brief werewolf attacks. A few weeks later the town suffers a horrible werewolf attack, wiping out the whole community. The bodycount is never accurate because so many aren’t recovered.” 

 

“And you think Rose Creek is next?” Jack sounds horrified.

 

“Yes. This is his longest house residency, and strangely the longest to thrive and go without werewolf attacks.” 

 

“That is peculiar,” Goodnight admitted, finally joining the conversation. “Do you have a theory as to why?”

 

“Mines.” she stated bluntly “I-in every town I visited or looked in to, they all had mines. I didn’t think anything of it at first but then I realised it's all connected. The mines, the guild, Bogue..everything...” She trailed off and balled her hands. 

 

“You’ve given this speech before haven’t you?” Sam asked gently.

 

Cass’s fists were still balled as she looked him in the eye, her voice shaking with nerves. “To the guild actually...they laughed in my face and told me to do the job they pay me to do. They don’t pay me to think up such fantasies - this is why they prefer women to keep to less - physical roles.” Her body was shaking with anger as she dredged up the memories.

 

“The guild are difficult,” Sam nodded. “They rarely listen unless it benefits them.” He had discerned that this girl meant no harm to them but there was one more thing he wanted to ask. “Bogue has never been convicted of killing anyone. I read the report and the news about that incident but everyone said it was a rogue werewolf pack that killed him. How are you so sure that it was Bogue that killed your father?.”

 

“No! It was Bartholomew Bogue! I was there! I saw him! I- I-” her anger seemed to boil over into sadness, her body trembling as she reached to touch her left arm, and her head bowed, tears falling as she sank to her knees. 

 

Jack rushed to her side, resting a hand on her back. “It’s alright,” he soothed, looking up at Goodnight as though waiting for him to say something. 

 

“I’m sorry.” Cassandra spoke, “I won’t ask for your forgiveness, I don’t rightly deserve it. Please let me stay the night and I’ll leave at first light.” 

 

Goodnight moved from his chair and crossing the room to kneel silently in front of her and take her hand . Cass choked back tears as she glanced up at him. “I’d rather you stay, dear, my home is open to wayward souls, to those without a home. Stay as long as you like, cherie.” 

 

The smile he gave her reduced her to tears again. ”I’ll work..I’ll still work for my room,,” she said through her tears. “Thank you, Mr. Robicheaux.” 

 

“Please, call me Goodnight.” He helped her to her feet and slid an arm around her shoulders “Now then. Miss Cassandra will be joining us as a resident here so be nice.” Goodnight beamed, and Sam could see the weight lifted off his friend’s shoulders. “Now then, off to bed with you all. It’s been a long day. There are some other things we need to talk about, but they can wait until morning.”

 

-

 

Vasquez hurried after the little hunter and caught her just going up the main stairs. Mindful of her injuries he ruffled her hair playfully, grinning. “Welcome to the pack, chica.” 

 

“Yeah, great, another hunter,” Faraday grumbled as he passed them on the stairs, then, grudgingly, “Thanks for not shooting me.” 

 

“Don’t worry about him.” Vasquez told her, “Goodnight always scolds him.” With another fluff of her hair he headed off in front of her. “B uenas noches.” 

 

 

 

 


	9. Compassion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new sun rises,  
> bringing the calm skies,  
> tales of the past,   
> False claims.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's been ages since my last update. I'm sorry. I've had a lot to sort and figure. But here we are.

Jack was too anxious to sleep: after tossing and turning for what seemed like hours, he gave up and changed out of his thick bed clothes to head downstairs to the kitchen. Might as well start preparing breakfast, he told himself. The rain was still raging outside, the wind whistling through a gap in the door frame. 

 

“What dreadful weather we’ve had lately,” he hummed, lighting a candle . “Now then, what to make? We’ll need another loaf.” He was pottering around the kitchen and pantry gathering ingredients when a clatter echoed through the kitchen and a blast of cold night air. 

 

“Oh good Lord.” Setting down the items quickly Jack hurried to grab the glass doors and close and latch them. “I wonder if the lock is-” He trailed off as he noticed a line of wet footprints leading into the kitchen, and turning around he was met with a figure almost blending in with the darkness before him.

 

“Billy Rocks, what in tarnation are you doing, boy? Sneaking up on people like that!” Jack hurried off to find a towel,

 

“Goody said to use doors,” Billy replied quietly.

 

Jack paused a moment to comprehend what he’d just heard before he placed a towel over Billy’s dripping hair. 

 

“Well, well done for finally taking that advice, but now let’s try alerting people when you come through the door,” he scolded, letting Billy dry his own hair. He noticed Billy was clutching something tightly. “What do you have there, son?” 

 

“Nothing.” Billy pocketed the item and slipped off into the shadows. 

 

Jack let out a sigh: sometimes he thought Billy had just given up with trying to make conversation. But then again he had only just started to listen to Goodnight’s advice, so perhaps there was hope.

 

-

 

It almost felt strange to wake up without the sound of rain battering at the windows. Cassandra stared up at the canopy of her bed, then rolled her head to the right to stare at the morning sun trying to creep through her curtains. Birds were singing the dawn chorus and it felt as though last night’s fiasco was just a horrible nightmare – until she moved to sit up and the pain lanced through her body. 

 

She flopped back down into the plush pillows and let out a tired sigh. “I forgot about that. Alright, on three.” She closed her eyes for a moment. “One- two- arghhh,” she groaned as she pushed herself upright.  “Okay, that wasn’t so bad.” 

 

Hobbling over to the mirror she caught a glimpse of herself. “I look awful,” she laughed. She tried to push some hair off her face, but found she couldn’t raise her left arm higher than her chin. “That’s interesting.” She clenched her fist a few times before swinging her arm up high, swearing under her breath as the pain surged through her shoulder blade. “Alright, let’s not do that for a while,” she chuckled tiredly to herself before willing herself to the task of getting dressed. 

 

-

 

Vasquez was an early riser: most of the time. He wasn’t as on form as Jack and Red Harvest who were up at the crack of dawn, sometimes before. He yawned and stretched in his heap of blankets, kicked them off and slowly rolled out of bed, only to stand up and stretch again. He scratched at his hairy chest as he walked across the room, kicking a pair of boots out the way, and pulled the curtains apart to let in the bright morning sun.

 

“Dios mio!” he cursed, squinting against the light. “Sol estúpido,” he grumbled, and  turned to warm his back against the glass a moment before he even considered putting clothes on. He yawned, then ran a hand through his unruly hair and pushed away from the window to find some clean clothes. 

 

As always he found Jack already in the kitchen. “Buenos días,” he greeted him, pulling out a chair that was in the sun's path. It was warm and Vasquez found himself in danger of being lulled back to sleep until Jack set a cup of coffee with a thud in front of him 

 

“If you’re up, you’re up,” Jack smiled and went back to preparing breakfast. 

 

Vasquez stared into the black liquid, his eyes starting to close again, but he jolted himself awake as his body started to hunch forward. Through blurry eyes he spotted a small figure in the doorway. “Buenos días,” he greeted her through a yawn.

 

“Cassandra, dear. Good morning.” Jack let the stove to fuss over her. 

 

“I’m sorry for causing so much trouble.” She looked around the kitchen. “Can I help-”

but Jack didn’t even let her finish speaking before ordering her to go sit down. 

 

Vasquez moved to pour her some coffee and set it in front of her. 

 

“How are you feeling?” he asked, watching her sip her piping hot coffee.

 

“Stiff as a board.” She grimaced as she rolled her shoulders. 

 

Vasquez noticed her hair was tied back very poorly, half of it falling from the ribbon. 

 

“Let me fix that for ya.” He slid from his seat 

 

“No! It’s fine-” 

 

Vasquez silenced her with a light tap to the head, then untied the ribbon, parted her hair into sections and deftly braided her hair, tying the blue ribbon into tight bow at the end. “Completo,” he said, sitting back down.

 

“Thank you-” she replied, swinging the braid over her shoulder, “you braid better than I do.” 

 

Vasquez laughed into his coffee. “Used to plait my sisters’ hair - and Red’s until he cut it.” Cassandra frowned and opened her mouth as though to speak, but went back to drinking her coffee in silence. 

 

After a little while Faraday came trudging in and deposited himself into a chair, reaching for the plate of sausages and bacon Jack had set on the table. 

 

“Is Red Harvest not up?” he yawned, piling his plate with meat.

 

“No, he went back to Rosa,” Vasquez answered, pouring himself and Cassandra more coffee.

 

“Rose?” Cassandra asked, looking up from her plate.

 

“Old crone that lives in the wood,” Faraday responded as he shoveled bacon into his mouth, earning him a clip round the ear from Jack 

 

“Don’t call Rosemary that.” Jack set some grilled tomatoes and mushrooms on the table before he sat down. “Rosemary is a witch,” he told Cassandra.

 

“A witch? But there aren’t any covens in the area.” She looked up from her food, shocked. “The guild are very strict with covens.”

 

“Rosa lives alone, she don’t like company much,” Vasquez explained. “She tolerates us at best.” 

 

“So, hunter, what are you doing today?” Faraday finally turned his attention to Cassandra. “Not trying to shoot us?” he added with a painfully fake smile

 

Cassandra ignored his sass. “I needed to go to town. There’s some things I’d like to check out there.”

 

“Well, you shouldn’t go alone, after everything that happened,” Jack advised, looking between them. Faraday focused on his plate again. 

 

“I’ll go with ya,” Vasquez offered. “I have some things to get anyway.” 

 

“Wonderful,” declared Jack, “while you’re both there I’ll get you a list of things to pick up.” 

 

Faraday scoffed. “Guess I made the right decision-”

 

“And since you’re staying, Joshua, you can help me wash these dishes,” Jack added with a stern smile. Vasquez and Cassandra shared a glance, chuckling quietly.

 

-

 

After  breakfast Vasquez grabbed his coat and rejoined Cassandra at the main entrance. 

 

“Hopefully we should miss any rain,” Cassandra said, looking up at the sky as they crossed the large courtyard. 

 

The iron gate creaked as Vasquez pushed it open enough for them to pass through. He worked it back and forth a few times with a  thoughtful frown. 

 

“I should oil that.” He pulled it to and turned back to Cassandra, who was clutching the strap of her satchel tightly. “You alright?”

 

She nodded quickly. “I feel lost without my rifle, but I can’t very well use it with my shoulder like this.” Vasquez grinned and ruffled her hair playfully. “Stop it,”

she protested.

 

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.” They headed down through the woods, careful of the slippery mud that had built up from the excessive rainfall, chatting idly about the house and the town. 

 

“I wanted to ask earlier. If you don’t mind …“ Vasquez waited, though he suspected he knew what she was going to ask. “You said you had sisters. Do they live in the town?”

 

“No. They live back home in Mexico. Mis hermanitas-“ Vasquez smiled as he thought of them. “They were so cute, always wanting to play, but-“ He looked at his hands, remembering that night, the night he wished hadn’t happened, the night that ruined everything. “My curse-“

 

“I don’t think it’s a curse.” Cassandra stopped in front of him. “My pa said that lycanthropy is more of a blessing.” Vasquez laughed scornfully, but Cassandra continued. “No one knows how or where it came from but my pa said that it came from the earth itself, Mother Earth giving life to a special wolf that created others to protect the forests and gave them the strength to protect the things closest to them.” 

 

_ What a foolish idea _

 

“That’s an interesting view” Vasquez said with a painfully forced grin, she laughed.

  
  
  


“My pa was known for a lot of foolish notions and that was one of them. But I do like that idea, kind of makes you a guardian of the earth.”

 

“More like a slobbering beast.” she beckoned him to crouch, he was reluctant at first but she refused to move so he complied and then had to crouch little more, this was really hurting his knees, she raised her hand and ruffled his head. A little smile tugged at his lips, his sisters used to do the same thing. 

 

“More like a huge slobbering puppy,” she laughed. Vasquez laughed and pulled her into a headlock which she squirmed out of, dancing away down the forest path.

  
  


The merriment was short lived. There was a small gathering just outside the entrance to Rose Creek.

“He’s a were, I’m telling you! They all are!” a small thin man shouted, Vasquez vaguely remembered him, pretty sure he frequented the tavern where Faraday usually drank, probably angry at losing to the stupid idiot -again.  

 

“Come on Earl be reasonable, they’re just private sorts” a taller man with a pronounced moustache said

 

“Shut up Dicky!” Earl snapped back, “I saw him! he changed into a wolf black as the shadows and killed my goats! and I’m going to prove it, come with me if you want the truth!” 

 

“Oh dear,” Cassandra muttered, glancing up at Vasquez who was wearing quite the frown. The man shouting turned to see Vasquez and raised his gun. 

 

“he’ll kill and eat us all!” Earl yelled in a panic.

 

Cassandra put herself between them. 

 

“Wait a moment. You think he’s a werewolf? Really? Then let me prove he isn’t.” She pulled out a silver crucifix from her jacket pocket and showed it to them. “If he’s a were then he can’t hold this.” The crowd looked between themselves muttering, nodding at the idea “well then if we’re in agreeance.” She looked up at him with a serious glint in her eyes. “Trust me,” she mouthed

 

Vasquez reached out and took the cross from her, bracing himself, but the burning sensation never came. 

_ How? _

 

“Is that proof enough for you?” she asked sternly “Last I checked werewolves could not touch silver.” Earl was speechless, looking from Vasquez to the cross in his hand. Opening his mouth several times to speak but nothing came out.  

 

“Well that was a waste of time. You said you were certain.” The crowd around them murmured and dispersed without another breath.. 

 

“Come on Earl, ma will be upset if she catches us skipping work again.” 

“shut up Dicky.” the taller man ushered his brother off without so much as a glance to them. 

 

Vasquez saw Cass’s shoulders slump as she sighed with relief. “I’m so glad that worked.”

 

“Chica-“

 

As they headed towards the town hall she ran the crucifix between her thumb and finger. “It’s titanium,” she explained, handing it back to Vasquez. “Looks like silver but isn’t. My father had stuff like this made for these sort of situations.”

 

“Sounds like a good man.”

 

“He was. He was terrible at being a family man though,” she admitted with a weak smile. “Drove my mama insane. Always away. But I loved him. He always came back with exciting stories and trained me to become a hunter.” Her smile was bright as she remembered. 

 

“Busy man.” Vasquez joked.

  
  


“Busy, but really only saw his work.” 

 

Vasquez looked down at her. 

 

“He was a hard workin’ man.”

 

“Yes. I was lucky to get to be beside him more.” Her shoulders sank “I just wish I could have saved him.” 

 

Vasquez reached to ruffle her hair. “And then you might have died instead and he would have blamed himself for that.” 

 

“Maybe it would have been better that way,” she said under her breath. She straightened up determinedly. “Anyway, does this town have a library? Or should I head to the town hall?”  

 

“The library is the next town over - town hall is your best bet. Need any help?” he offered. 

 

“I should be alright. I’ll meet you by the gates at noon. If I’m not there I’ll probably be in the town hall still.” Cassandra smiled, then hurried off towards the town hall on the opposite side of the village. 

 

“Guess I’ll get Jack’s shopping.” Vasquez rummaged in his pockets for the list. 

 

“Well, now,” came a familiar voice, “It’s rare to see you in town and I see the bumbling fool isn’t with you either.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -whispering- comments are nice ;_;


End file.
